Sticks and Stones
by PissedOffEskimo
Summary: There had been quite literally hundred of ways Eobard Thawn could have done this. From adopting Barry himself to simply sitting back and watching. He'd done the later for a time, but the idea of taking at least some of his anger out on the boy who would become the Flash had been so, so tempting and when the future didn't change after he took him, well, that told Eobard everything
1. Sticks and Stones (1)

Warnings: Rape/Noncon; Hurt/Comfort; Physical Torture; Psychological Torture; PTSD; Flashbacks

Pairings: Barry Allen/Cisco Ramon; Barry Allen/Eobard Thawne (Harrison Wells); Cisco Ramon/Hartley Rathaway; Eobard Thawne (Harrison Wells)/Hartley Rathaway

Author's Note: Trigger warnings abound.

* * *

 **Sticks and Stones (1/2)**

The explosion of S.T.A.R. Lab's Particle Accelerator caused mass chaos throughout Central City. The hospitals were overrun, the police were flooded with calls of looters taking advantage of the situation, and Detective Joe West had lost his partner and good friend, Detective Chyre. Amidst everything going wrong that night, it wasn't hard to explain why no one noticed. No one ventured into the forensic lab, because there was no reason to and when someone finally did, it wasn't because he needed to do any actual forensics as much as he needed the coffee mug he'd left there earlier that evening.

Like all other personnel at the station not sporting a sidearm, Thompson had been relegated to phone duty. His shift had started at six that morning, which meant he was rounding hour nineteen. As much as he'd love to go home, however, that wasn't going to be happening anytime soon. Until things died down, it was all hands on deck and every coffee mug full. Speaking of which. He looked mournfully at the small Styrofoam cup he'd been refilling for the last five hours and decided it was time to pull out the big guns. He'd left his comically oversized mug in the lab when he thought his shift was ending and he was going to be spending a quiet evening watching the particle accelerator go online. So much for quiet evenings.

He finished getting the details of the suspicious activity and hung up with a promise they'd look into it, which was probably as empty as his sad little cup, because they had much more important things to worry about then a few teenagers loitering outside a gas station.

He gave the nearest detective the sign that he'd be back, in case anyone needed him and trudged up the stairs and down the deserted, dimly lit hall to the forensic lab. As he stepped through the open doors, he cursed at the water under his feet and fumbled with the light switch. A soft glow filled the room and Thompson froze, stunned at the chaos. Several shelves had been knocked over, bottles, paperwork, samples, everything was spilled out over the wet floor. The air smelled burnt. Then he noticed something else among the chaos of shattered glass and wet files, or rather, someone – someone unconscious and sprawled in a way that suggested injury.

Slowly, cautiously, Thompson backed out of the room until he rounded the corner, finally pulling himself together enough to sprint down the hall, yelling "Detectives!" as soon as he hit the banister.

No one answered at first, the noise of the station swallowing his request. He stumbled down the stairs. "Detectives!"

"I'm sorry, could you hold a minute." Detective Eddie Thawne pressed his hand over the receiver and mouthed. "What?"

"You… not you." Eddie pinched his mouth tight, but ignored the slight. He was still new and while he got along with most of the officers there were still a few holdouts. He was well aware that Detective West and some of the other more seasoned Detectives called him Pretty Boy behind his back.

Thompson turned around, looking for someone else. "Joe!"

Joe looked up from his paperwork, weary, but not entirely ungrateful for the distraction. "What's wrong?"

"No, this… there's… you need to come see this."

Joe knew Thompson, the man had been their head of forensics for going on six years now, he wasn't easily shaken. He put aside the report he'd been filling out on his encounter with the Mardon brothers and followed Thompson up the steps, Eddie close at their heels, because while he may know what some of the others thought of him, he also knew that wasn't going to change unless he proved himself.

The second floor was as dark and deserted as the first floor was loud and overcrowded. As Joe stepped past the nervous tech into the lab, he figured he was ready for just about anything.

He wasn't.

The floor was slick with water. Someone had left the sky light open again, but that didn't explain the shelves or the stale smell of something burning and, above everything else, it didn't explain the young man lying on the floor in the middle of the room.

Joe rushing forward as Eddie pulled out his phone to call for an ambulance. He felt for a pulse and found one, too fast and the boy's skin was hot with fever. His hair hung in damp, uneven lengths, obscuring his face. Joe pushed the strands aside to get a better look. He was young, probably in his early twenties, and pale; too pale, actually, even with the fever and there was something about him that was eerily familiar.

Eddie knelt beside him, looking over the boy with the scrutiny Joe had. "There's an ambulance on the way, Thompson went to tell the Captain. Do you know him?"

After a moment's hesitation, Joe shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

Eddie looked around the room, bewildered. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know."

* * *

When the ambulance came, Joe went with them to the hospital. The kid, whoever he was, didn't work for the police and they needed an officer there in case he woke up. There had been other volunteers, but Joe needed to get out of the station. His partner had just died and as much as they would have liked to send him home, they needed the manpower. At least this put him in a position to be useful and still get some time to put his head together.

Thompson took a quick set of finger prints and a DNA sample before the ambulance got there, but it would be a while before they could actually run them. The city and the safety of its citizens was the priority for now.

They almost lost him on the way to the hospital. Almost lost him again when they first got there. The doctors said he'd been struck by lightning. It was no small miracle he'd survived this long and they weren't sure how long that miracle was going to last. They did their best, though, got him stabilized and put him in a room by himself. The rest of the hospital was double and triple packed with more incoming, but until they knew otherwise, they had to treat this like a break in, which made the kid a criminal.

Joe didn't agree with that. It didn't sit right with him. There was something about it that didn't make sense. Something in the sickly pale face, the gaunt features. When they'd taken his clothes off to put him in a hospital gown, he'd been bordering on the kind of thin that indicated malnourishment.

After the doctors left, Joe went through the still damp clothes carefully, looking for an ID or a cell phone, but didn't find any. His hands came back pale blue from handling the jeans and on the inside of the shirt, there was a small sticker with a price and size. They were new. Possibly never worn before, but at the very least, never washed.

Everything about the kid, from his pallor, to his weight, to his hair that looked like he'd cut it himself, said he was most likely homeless, but those clothes were new and he knew that brand of jeans, those weren't cheap. He sat back in the chair and studied the sleeping figure, tubes and wires coming out of him from everywhere, the beat of the heart monitor going a little too fast and filling the otherwise silent room.

"Who are you?"

* * *

The knock on the door that startled Joe awake nearly spilled him out of his chair. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes as it opened and focused on the clock. It was seven in the morning. Iris had called the night before to make sure he was all right. She'd gotten back early from her trip to Starling City and promised to stay at home and wait for him. The kid had coded again sometime around three, but they'd managed to get him back. Until they knew who he was and what he was doing in the station, they needed to do everything they could to keep him alive.

"Detective West?"

Eddie stepped in, suit jacket missing, shirt un-tucked, dark circles under his eyes, and stubble on his face. He looked like shit and still somehow managed to pull of the wide eyed pretty boy look just fine. Joe bitterly remembered the days he could pull an all-nighter and still look that good. Those days were long gone.

"Yeah, Thawne, what are you doing here?"

"Look, Detective, I don't… I'm not really sure how to tell you this. I'm not even sure I'm the right one to be doing it, but I wanted you to hear it before everyone else did." For the first time, Joe noticed the file clutched in the young detective's hand.

"Tell me what?"

"The way you looked at the kid yesterday… call it a hunch, but I went ahead and ran the prints." He hesitated again before handing the file over and when Joe opened it, his heart skipped, his inside turned cold and he couldn't draw breath.

Eddie continued, "I ran them three times. We're still waiting on DNA, but, Detective, I did an age progression on the photo we had in the file and it's… it's close. Too close to be a coincidence."

Joe looked at the computer generated age-progressed photo in the folder and up at the young man in the bed. There were little differences that could be up to weight and hair style, but it was remarkably similar. He looked at the finger prints with twenty seven points in common clearly indicated across the two – an undeniable match. Then he pulled out the old school photo of a young boy he hadn't seen in ten years. He didn't need all the other evidence, because now that he saw it, he wasn't sure how he'd missed it in the first place. It was Barry.

* * *

When Barry was eleven, his father killed his mother. Joe was and always will be convinced that he saw it, but Barry never admitted that, always insisting someone else had done it – the man in the lightning. There had been therapy, of course, but the kid never backed down from the story.

He'd been Iris's best friend, but more then that, he'd been practically family already and Joe hadn't hesitated to move him in with them. In fact, he'd insisted. Things had been tense at first, mostly because while Barry was insisting his dad was innocent, Joe was busy trying to put the man in jail, but it had never been bad. Above all else, Joe cared about the kid and in the end, Barry knew that. Or at least Joe thought he did.

A few days shy of his sixteenth birthday, Barry vanished. No one knew how or why. He went to the library to do research for a paper and never made it home. No one saw anything and considering Barry's obsession with proving his dad's innocence, it was always a matter of opinion as to whether he was taken, or simply ran away.

Joe liked to think he'd done everything in his power to make Barry feel at home, to make him feel loved and wanted and cared for, but in the end, he couldn't be sure. Iris had been. Iris had always maintained Barry wouldn't have left without saying goodbye.

Then, ten years later, he appeared unconscious on the floor of the forensic lab in the same police station where Joe worked and Joe didn't believe in coincidences.

They got the surveillance feed for the station the night of the explosion and it hadn't given them much. The explosion itself had knocked out all power in the city, including the security cameras, but they had the footage leading up to it. They had Thompson leaving the lab, coffee mug forgotten on the table. A few minutes later, Barry appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

The techs checked, but they couldn't find any indication it had been tampered with. One moment the room was empty, the next there was a flash of light and a confused Barry Allen was standing in the middle of it on shaky legs.

He'd moved in a stationary circle as he looked around the room, then stopped, focused on something to the left, just out of frame. His back was to the camera and there wasn't sound, but Joe got the impression he was listening to something. After a minute, he sat where he was, directly under the skylight, pulled his knees to his chest and waited. He didn't move an inch, even when water started to pour down onto his head and puddle around him. He didn't move… until lightning struck him.

Joe watched it over and over until his head ached and his eyes stung, but nothing in the video explained what had happened to him in the lab or anywhere else. They just had to wait and hope he woke up.

* * *

 _9 months later_

There was something on Barry's face, resting just above his lip and slightly inside of his nose, blowing cool air into his nostrils, sterile and sweet. He felt heavy and slow, but there was something in the background, something like… music? It was upbeat, techno or dance, nothing he knew. And there was talking, only he didn't recognize the voices, just that they were normal. It had been a long time since he'd heard a real, normal voice that wasn't his own. The room was cold. The bed he was laying on was firm, but comfortable and the blankets wrapped around his bare chest were soft and warm. Everything was so different.

The light hurt his eyes when he opened them; his instincts were warring between relief and a greater fear. The room he was in reminded him of the other room, with the metal walls and florescent lights, but it was bigger and packed with medical equipment and computers. There were also windows, set too high to reach and angled so all he could see was sky, but still windows. It was daylight out. He forced himself to look away from them and at the people walking away, their backs to him, talking animatedly about whether they thought he could hear the music.

He sat up on the bed and looked down at himself and the leads attached to his chest. Wait… _his_ chest? That didn't look like his chest, he didn't have abs, he had ribs. Hesitantly, he touched it and felt his own hand against his own skin. He pressed into it more firmly and there was muscle, real muscle, not the soft tissue that he was used to from years of inactivity. He was so caught up in it, that it took him a minute to notice the talking had stopped. When he looked up, the two people he'd seen earlier were frozen in place, staring at him, by all appearances just as shocked to see him as he was to be there.

The man spoke first, excitement in his voice and a wide smile on his face. "Oh, man, are you awake?"

The woman looked at him pointedly. "Of course he's awake." Then turned back to Barry, "Hi, Mr. Allen, I'm…"

As she spoke, she took a step forward, hand held out, and Barry moved before he realized he was doing it. He threw himself from the bed, leads ripping off and leaving little red patched where they'd been suctioned on, tripping on the blanket that tangled in his legs, then scrambled back until he found a wall to press his back to.

To Barry's relief, they didn't move to follow and he took the long stretch of silence that followed to look them over. The man was young, at least he looked young with long, thick black hair that fell to his shoulders and a graphic t-shirt of an old 8-bit video game. He didn't look like he belonged in the sterile, laboratory-like setting of the room they were in. The woman, in contrast, did. With her pencil skirt and heels, neatly brushed strawberry blonde hair, her stern expression, she belonged.

They took another step forward and Barry automatically moved into a nearby corner, pulled his knees up to protect himself instinctively.

The woman moved back to lean over her desk and Barry couldn't see what she was doing, but he could hear her speaking. "Dr. Wells, you need to get down to the cortex immediately. He's awake."

The young man dropped to one knee. "Hey, Barry, I'm Cisco. How are you?"

Barry rocked a little in the corner, trying to decide if he should answer and if he did, what he should say. Was this even real? It felt real. It didn't have the strange disconnect of a dream. The last thing he remembered was… being left in a strange room, cold rain soaking through him. This was real and he didn't know what to do.

When he didn't answer, the man, Cisco, tried a different tactic. "Do you know where you are?"

Hesitantly, he shook his head and Cisco smiled again. "You're in S.T.A.R. Labs."

It was said with barely restrained enthusiasm, like that should mean something to him. Like he was supposed to know what that was. He looked around the room for clues. A lab could mean a lot of things.

The music playing in the background changed tracks and the woman started to move forward again, but stopped herself. "Cisco, I don't think he knows what S.T.A.R. Labs is."

Cisco looked at her, then back at Barry again, wide eyed. "You don't?"

Barry shook his head and Cisco's frown was almost comically deep. "Okay, that's… weird, but okay. This is Caitlin, or, well, Dr. Snow. You were struck by lightning. Do you remember that?"

He shook his head again. He remembered sitting in the strange room and then something happened, something that hurt, more and less then other things. He didn't remember anything after that. At their stares, he ducked his head a little to hide his eyes under the protective fringe of brown hair, only it wasn't there. He reached up to feel for it, finding his hair had been cut short, only a few inches long.

"Cisco, maybe we should wait for Dr. Wells."

As if on queue, the doors slid open. Barry pulled his legs tighter against his chest, half expecting he knew who it was. Only instead of the man in yellow, it was a different man, one in a wheel chair. This man, Dr. Wells presumably, stopped next to Dr. Snow and Barry considered running. The door was clearly unlocked. He could probably make it past them, but… but then what? He didn't know where he was or how to get out. He didn't know who else was on the other side.

Dr. Wells watched him carefully, looking him over, before speaking, but not to him. "Cisco, why don't you get our guest here a shirt?"

Barry flinched back when Cisco stood, but he only left the room, returning shortly with a dark blue sweat shirt, S.T.A.R. Laboratories printed in white across it. Instead of approaching him again, Cisco stood back with the others and tossed it at his feet. Barry pulled the shirt over his head as quickly as he could before tucking his legs back up against his chest.

Dr. Wells smiled patiently. "Barry, listen to me, you're at S.T.A.R. Labs. Do you know what that means?"

Barry shook his head, but Dr. Wells' smile didn't falter. "It means you're safe."

He couldn't stop the huff of disbelieving laughter that came out. Nowhere was safe. Although, maybe it would be better. He wanted it to be better.

Cisco rocked on his heels by the monitors. "I don't think he believes you."

Dr. Snow sighed. "You're not helping, Cisco."

Cisco reached past the monitors and pulled a stick of red liquorish out. Barry eyed it hungrily. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had candy of any kind. Cisco bit some off and stopped mid-chew, looking at Barry. "You want some?"

When Barry didn't answer, Cisco started forward. Dr. Snow made to stop him, but Dr. Wells put a hand on her arm and shook his head, so Cisco kept coming, ignoring the tension that built in Barry with every step until he finally came to sit only a few feet away.

He held out the liquorish and repeated. "You want some?"

Barry bit at his nails, momentarily surprised that he had any. He must have been asleep for a really long time.

Food was usually okay. The man in yellow didn't tamper with the food, he didn't need to, but this wasn't the man in yellow, this was a new person. He bit off two more nails before grabbing it and shoving the entire bendy straw into his mouth. It tasted like strawberry flavored rubber. He'd forgotten how much he hated liquorish, but it was simultaneously the worst and best thing he'd ever eaten.

Cisco smiled and waved a hand behind him until Dr. Snow tossed over a big bag of the red candy and they sat in silence, eating it and waiting while the two doctors watched.

* * *

Cisco was nice. He had a big smile and bright eyes and he looked at Barry like Barry was interesting. Not in the bug pinned on a board kind of interesting Barry was used to, but a different kind – a kind he remembered from a long time ago.

He relaxed by inches as they sat for what felt like hours, but the watch on Cisco's wrist said was only about twenty minutes. Cisco didn't say anything, Barry didn't say anything, Dr. Snow started to say something every so often, but Dr. Wells stopped her. It was just the sound of chewing and the faint hum of music in the background.

Slowly, he let his legs down, crossed them and put his hands in his lap. He wasn't sure what he was doing there. He didn't know what was going on, but he liked Cisco. He had an honest smile. Barry hadn't seen an honest smile, or any smile for that matter, in years.

The music changed over again and Cisco swallowed his latest bite of candy. "Hey, so you've been in a coma."

Barry looked over at the Doctors for confirmation and Dr. Snow perked up at the interaction. "Nine months, to be exact."

Cisco held another band of liquorish out, but Barry shook his head. "Right, so, coma, man, that's a big deal. We kinda need to check you out, make sure you're okay."

He looked at his hands, folded them together, bit his lip. Comas were big, he'd read that, read a lot of things. If he'd been asleep for nine months, his muscles should have atrophied, but they hadn't. He pressed fingers into his abdomen again, feeling the muscle like it could give him answers.

Nine months and the man in yellow hadn't come to get him. Maybe he thought Barry was dead. These people hadn't hurt him. Before the man in yellow, Joe used to tell him he was a good judge of character. He liked Cisco, Dr. Snow made him a little nervous with her serious face, but not scared, and Dr. Wells… he wasn't sure about Dr. Wells, who was being so patient and above anything else, Barry really wanted to be able to trust someone.

Finally, he nodded and Cisco's smile brightened. "Don't worry, I'll be right there. If she does something you don't like, I'll kick her for you."

Dr. Snow's mouth pinched tight. "Very funny, Cisco."

Instead of replying to her, he winked at Barry and when he reached out to take Barry's hand, Barry let him. He let Cisco help him up and onto the bed and Cisco hadn't lied about being right there. He sat next to Barry while Dr. Snow put a clip on his finger, took his temperature, his blood pressure, and shined lights in his eyes. When she took a blood sample, Cisco waited until she was done and kicked her lightly in the back of her legs as she turned away.

"Cisco!"

"What? No one likes needles."

She frowned, set the vial of blood down and held out a plastic cup with a thick blue lid. "I need you to urinate in this."

Barry considered it for a second before he stood up and reached for the strings of the sweat pants he was wearing. Cisco grabbed his hands, stopping him. "Wow! Not here, man, come on. We have a bathroom."

He blushed, wishing he had his long hair back to hide behind, but followed Cisco to the other side of the room and through a door into a bathroom. "I'm just on the other side. That okay?"

Barry nodded slowly and let the door close. It was a small room, no shower, just a toilet, sink, and… mirror. He leaned forward to get a closer look at himself, transfixed at his own reflection. The last time he'd seen his own face, he'd been sixteen. Looking at himself now was like looking at a stranger. He touched the short hair, his nose, his mouth. He was older. A _lot_ older. He was an adult. How long had he been in that room? He'd known years, but… how many?

He rushed to pee in the cup, suddenly feeling an urgent need for answers.

Cisco was waiting for him just outside the door. "Better?"

"What year is it?" He couldn't give himself time to think about it. If he did, he wouldn't be able to get the words out.

Cisco blinked in surprise and looked at Dr. Snow, who looked at Dr. Wells, who was still sitting in his wheelchair on the far side of the room from them. Dr. Wells nodded and Cisco used both hands to brush the thick fall of hair behind his ears. "2014."

2014? But that was… "Ten years?"

"Excuse me?"

It was Dr. Wells. "I believe Mr. Allen is referring to the night he went missing in 2004."

Barry's legs went weak and he leaned back against the wall as the room tunneled. Ten years. He'd been in the room for ten years. He could hear Dr. Snow and Dr. Wells talking, muffled like he was under water.

"We need to call Detective West."

"Caitlin…"

"We promised we'd call if Barry woke up."

"This is a very sensitive situation."

"I'm aware of that, but you heard him. Dr. Wells, he doesn't know what year it is. This is…"

Cisco caught Barry around his waist as he started to slide to the floor. "Caitlin, a little help here!"

Barry wasn't sure, but he thought he felt her grab onto him from the other side just as everything went black.

* * *

There wasn't any music this time, but there were raised voices. Barry blinked awake, once again on the bed in the middle of the strange room. S.T.A.R. Labs. Something warm and soft was wrapped around his hand and he tipped his head over to find Cisco at his bedside, focused on something to his right.

Barry followed his gaze to the closed door. The yelling was coming from the other side. He looked down at Cisco's hand wrapped in his. He didn't hate it. Without realizing what he was doing, he moved his thumb over the soft back of it and Cisco startled, looking at Barry in surprise.

"Oh, hey, you're awake." He paused. "Again."

Barry nodded, "How long?"

"Don't worry, you didn't slip back into a coma or anything, just a few hours."

The yelling elevated and Barry realized there was only one person doing the yelling. There was something familiar in the voice, but he couldn't place it. It was male, but it wasn't Dr. Wells. "What's going on?"

Cisco leaned in, his smile turning conspiratorial. "Caitlin may have gone against Dr. Wells' orders and texted Detective West that you woke up."

Detective West? Joe! Barry started to sit up, but Cisco's hand on his chest pushed him back down and he found that he was still weak enough to let it. "No, no, no, don't worry. He'll be back in a minute, just took the fight outside so it wouldn't bother you."

"Fight?" It was a strange kind of relief getting actual answers to his questions.

"Dr. Wells thinks you should stay here until we've finished running more tests."

"More?"

"EKG, MRI, CAT Scan. He wants to run the whole gamut. Could take days." Days? He didn't want to stay there for days. The metal walls and florescent lights reminded him too much of the room. Larger and there were windows, but still confinement, still more of the same. Cisco shook his head and winked. "Don't worry, I don't think Detective West is gonna let him. Hey, are you hungry?"

Now that Cisco mentioned it, he was starving. With help, he sat up and a paper bag was put in his lap.

"Detective West brought it. He said it's your favorite."

Inside was a sandwich, packed with just about everything – turkey, pastrami, bacon – oh, god, bacon. He'd really, really missed bacon. Biting into it was like biting into home.

"So, you mind if I ask you something?"

Barry shook his head, swallowing the partially chewed sandwich to take another bite.

"When you went missing in 2004, you didn't run away, did you?"

Didn't run away? Of course he hadn't run away, why would…? Except, why wouldn't they think that. It had been dark, no one around to see and it had happened so fast he hadn't exactly had a chance to raise any alarms.

When he didn't answer, Cisco nodded to himself. "So, where have you been for the last ten years?"

Barry considered the answer carefully and decided on the truth, more or less. "I don't know."

"Barry?!" He hadn't heard the door open, but without the glass muffling it, he instantly recognized Joe's voice. Before he could fully process it, arms were around him. Strong, familiar, safe arms. Arms that couldn't protect him, really, but they would try and Barry returned the embrace, burying his face in Joe's suit jacket and the familiar smell of old spice and coffee.

Joe cupped the back of his head with one hand, the other tight around his back. "It's okay. Barr, it's okay, I've got you."

It wasn't okay, it really wasn't, but with Joe there, he could almost believe it.

* * *

The others went outside to give them privacy. Barry wasn't sure when exactly he started crying, but it was a while before he could stop and he wasn't the only one. By the time they separated, his sandwich was cold. It still tasted good, better then anything he'd eaten in… well, ten years, apparently. As good as it was, though, Barry hadn't thought he'd be able to eat the entire thing. Prolonged restrictive diets had a tendency to shrink the stomach, he'd read that, but even as he polished off the last crumb in the box, he still felt starved.

The offered bottle of water joined the sandwich and Barry didn't think he'd ever been so hungry and thirsty, not even in those first few weeks in the room.

"Barry, I need you to tell me what happened. How did you end up at the police station?"

Barry stared, more then a little surprised. "I was at the police station?"

Joe nodded. "In the forensic lab. How did you get there?"

"He took me there."

"What?"

"He came in the room, told me to get dressed."

 _The humming was the only warning he had before the door opened and the man in yellow stepped through. He was holding something in his hand. The items were tossed on the bed in front of Barry and it took him a moment to recognize jeans and a t-shirt. Real clothes, not like the scrubs he was wearing._

 _"Put them on." The voice vibrated through the room, unrecognizable as human, but Barry thought it had to be. He didn't believe in aliens. At least, not the kind that came to earth in flying saucers and abducted unsuspecting farmers for extensive anal probing. Although, considering everything, maybe he should._

 _He stood, turned his back to pull his scrubs off. The man in yellow didn't move. Barry should have been used to it by now, but he still flushed in anger and embarrassment. There should be privacy in some things, at least some of the time._

"He said he was taking me somewhere."

 _When he was dressed, Barry started to sit again, but before he'd moved more then an inch, the man was right there, a solid and powerful wall and Barry was taller then him now by a few inches, but that didn't make him feel any less intimidated. The hand blurred as it vibrated and moved to his face. It didn't hurt, not this time, but Barry stayed tense, waiting for the pain._

 _"You, Barry Allen, have somewhere very important you need to be tonight."_

"I couldn't see where we were going. I don't know how we got in."

 _The man in yellow moved fast. Barry barely had time to feel himself being put over a shoulder, to feel the rush of air around him, before he was being put down again and he was somewhere new._

"He told me to stay there and he'd be back for me."

 _He looked around, lost and confused at shelves and bottles of fluid and file folders and a board with pictures and charts on it and finally found his captor standing near a closed window, watching him._

 _"What am I doing here? What's going on?"_

 _"Sit, Barry." And he did, because it was sit or he'd make him. "Don't move. Wait. I'll come back for you."_

"Then… then I don't remember. I woke up here."

Joe watched him closely, reading every half truth. "You said the room. What room?"

"The room. The one he kept me in."

"For how long?"

"I didn't run away." Joe's eyes were shining, like he might cry and Barry didn't want to see him cry again so he looked down. "Is it really 2014?"

"Yes."

"Then ten years. He grabbed me while I was on my way to the library. I didn't have a chance to run or call out for help. I tried, I did, but he moved too fast and then…"

"No, Barry, don't." Joe took Barry's face in his hands, made him look up and meet his stare. "I need you to tell me who did this to you. Who took you?"

The problem was, Joe never believed him as a kid and he wouldn't believe him now. It would be the same thing all over again. Barry trying to protect someone he shouldn't be or maybe too traumatized to know the truth from whatever fantasy his imagination had worked up to help him deal with reality. He couldn't do that again, especially not now.

"Barry?"

"I don't know. I never saw his face. He wore a mask."

It wasn't an outright lie. For the most part, it was the absolutely truth. Barry had no idea who the man in yellow was, other than it was the same man who killed his mom. He never saw him out of his suit, never heard his real voice.

"He hurt you."

It wasn't a question, but Barry nodded, unable to put it into words, relieved he didn't have to.

"Did he say why?"

He closed his eyes. "He said it was my fault."

"What was your fault?"

 _Everything._

"I don't know. I asked, but it just… it made it worse. Like my asking pissed him off. He…"

"Barr, look at me. Come on, son."

That one word, son, dragged him out of the pressing nightmare and he opened his eyes back to the bright room and Joe and he took a deep breath, aware of wetness on his face. "Can I go home now? I really want to go home."

* * *

"You know that's against every protocol we have, Joe."

"Sir…"

"I can't just let you take him home. He needs to come down to the station and make a statement. If what you're saying is true, he needs to be evaluated by a specialist before being released."

Joe looked through the windows to where Barry still sat on the table, Cisco back at his side and Dr. Snow looking perpetually annoyed. There had been physical signs of abuse. Bones that had broken and mended more then once, scarring in places Joe didn't want to think about, the blood work that put him just on the border of malnourished, but more then that, he knew Barry.

The young man in the security footage from the night of the explosion didn't move the way Barry did, he didn't move like someone who was there because they wanted to be. There was only confusion in the way he'd looked around the room and resignation in his posture as he sat in place, unmoving and waiting. For the most part, he'd made up his mind before he even saw Barry. Iris was right, he hadn't runaway that night. The full impact of what that meant, though, hadn't hit until Barry had looked at him and his expression had been a heartbreaking mix of desperation and relief.

"He has been evaluated by a specialist. Public opinion aside, Dr. Wells and his staff are more then qualified to make that call."

"None of them are psychiatrists, Joe."

"No, but they are the doctors I put in charge of Barry's health and they agree with me on this. Barry's telling the truth."

"Then he needs to be put into a program, Joe, with people who can help him."

"Please, sir, as a personal favor. Let me take him home."

The pause was heavy and lingering. He knew he was asking a lot. Under normal circumstances, someone in Barry's position would be put into a rehabilitation facility before being released back to the family, but this was Barry. This was the child he considered a son, back after ten years and the look in his eyes when he'd asked to go home… Joe would move heaven and earth to make that happen.

Finally, the Chief sighed, defeat clear in that one gesture. "So, what you're saying to me is that Dr. Snow, in her professional opinion as Barry's personal physician, does not think Barry is emotionally or mentally capable of making a statement at this time?"

"Yes, sir, that is exactly what I'm saying."

"And I'm correct in assuming that she also believes Barry would be better off recovering at home for the time being?"

"Yes, sir."

"You have a week."

"Thank you, sir."

He hung up before the Captain could change his mind. Joe knew it wasn't going to be easy, he knew it could backfire. According to Wells and his team, the scars and bones had healed as mysteriously as the muscle that had built. He wasn't sure what had caused Barry's body to heal, but it wasn't going to be that easy to heal Barry's mind, especially not when Barry was lying to him. It was too early to call him on it, but Joe knew him well enough to know when the kid was holding back, when he was so scared he couldn't bring himself to saying something out loud.

They'd get there, though. It was just going to take time.

The whir of the wheel chair alerted him to Dr. Wells' presence and he turned to face the scientist, dropping the phone back into his pocket as he did so. "I'm taking Barry with me."

"I still don't think that's wise, but I don't suppose I can stop you." Joe shook his head. "If anything changes?"

"I'll bring him back, but he'll be fine."

He wasn't sure why, but something about Dr. Wells bothered him. It had since the moment he'd shown up at the hospital offering to treat Barry. That smile didn't sit well on him and even if no one else saw it, Joe did. He'd still been Barry's best chance though. The kid had coded several more times in those first weeks and Joe had been desperate. He couldn't get Barry back just to lose him again.

Inside, Cisco was flailing the end of a liquorish stick in Dr. Snow's face like a sword while she stammered over words. "No… Cisco, would you… just…" She grabbed the stick, pointing it at him. "Stop it."

He wagged his eyebrow at her and leaned into Barry, nudging his shoulder. Barry didn't flinch. Whatever Joe thought of Dr. Wells, it didn't extend to his associates. Joe had done extensive background checks on all of them when Barry had come there. He knew Dr. Snow had lost her fiancé the night of the explosion, that she'd also lost just about everything else as well. What he got from Cisco with his childlike enthusiasm was a certified genius. Nothing stuck out in either of their pasts to raise flags. Nothing stuck out in Dr. Wells' file, either, but Joe took gut instinct seriously. Gut instinct said they were okay, at least for now.

"Hey, Barry." Barry looked over, suddenly tense and expectant. "Let's go home."

The tension bled out and was replaced by a hesitant upturn at the corner of Barry's mouth. Not a smile but something like one. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. We'll get you settled in and I'll call Iris. She should be getting off work around then."

At the mention of Iris, a real smile spread over Barry's face.

Dr. Wells was waiting outside the sliding doors and his eyes moved momentarily to where Barry's hands clutched desperately at Joe's.

"Remember your promise."

"If anything happens, you'll be the first to know."

* * *

Dr. Wells led them down the long, enclosed hall and through a door into another, much brighter hallway, but this one had floor to ceiling windows, the lower half shuttered against prying eyes, but the top was open and he could see clear blue sky just on the other side of the glass.

As Dr. Wells pressed his thumb to the reader a few feet away, Barry stopped where he was and watched it open. Joe looked back, confused. "You okay?"

No, because he wanted more then anything to go outside, but the closest thing he'd come to outside in ten years was sitting under that skylight letting rain hit him in the middle of the night, just before he'd been struck by lightning. It wasn't that he wanted to go back to the lab with its metal walls and strange people. He didn't, he really wanted to follow Joe out that door and go home. He wanted to see Iris and hear her voice. It was just that the lab felt… safer. The lab was a known factor. There wasn't anything terrifyingly new there, nothing except the people and he liked them.

Dr. Wells sat in his wheelchair, holding the door for them and Joe was waiting for an answer. Barry bit his lip, dragged it through his teeth and managed, "No windows."

It wasn't much. There had been windows in the lab, but they had been windows without expectation. Nothing to see but sky, no way to open them. Even then, he'd had trouble staring at them for long, the sense of vastness and outside was too much too soon.

When Joe still looked confused, he added, "In the room. There were no windows in the room."

Joe's eyes widened as that set in and Barry looked up through the glass at the white clouds rather than his foster father's face, because he couldn't accept the look that was as lost as Barry felt.

"Barry, if you don't want to do this, if you _can't_ it's okay. We'll figure something out."

Everyone kept saying it was okay, but it wasn't, it really, really wasn't. Hearing Joe say he didn't have to go, though, made him feel… not stronger, but more resolved. "No, I want to go home."

His entire body was a line of tension walking out the door, holding him stiff and still as he followed Joe. The door opened into a small alcove, high cement walls blocking the view of the street, but not the tall buildings around the lab. They were downtown.

He hadn't been able to see where the man in yellow took him before he'd been put in the room. There had been blurs of color and sound, but nothing he could use to identify the place. Knowing where he was geographically… it was good.

Dr. Wells rolled down the ramp to them. "You're sure you won't reconsider?"

"No, but thank you for everything. We'll be in touch."

"I'm sure you will."

He didn't back away as Joe led Barry from the small side entrance. The street was just on the other side of the wall, an unfamiliar car parked at the curb. It was a quiet ride. Joe didn't turn any music on, but Barry didn't need it. He was busy watching everything as it passed, looking for more changes. Shops and café's, apartment buildings, homes – it was all different. Even things that were the same were different. Different signs, different paint. Ten years was a long time.

Joe's house, though, was the same. Right down to the carefully manicured lawn, the neatly trimmed bushes, and the little silver number '2' next to the door that was still crooked.

It was getting late in the afternoon. The clock in the car said four, then it said nothing, because Joe had turned the car off and Barry was home.

* * *

On the walk from the car to the front door, Joe watched Barry. He didn't move much, but his eyes did. They were everywhere, taking in everything, even as he didn't react to it. One room for ten years at the mercy of whoever had put him there. How big had that room been? No window, but had there been a television? Had he seen any of the news coverage from his disappearance? It hadn't been much, less then Joe would have liked, but without details, without leads, it had been the best they could do.

Iris had never agreed. She'd always felt the media could have done more. He was fairly certain her interest in journalism came from that, but journalism was better then her attempt to join the police academy, so he encouraged it.

He closed the door behind Barry, noticed the slight, nervous tilt of Barry's head as it clicked shut. Joe stood back and tried to think of something to say.

Barry was leaning against the door, head down, fingers picking at the hem of the dark blue sweatshirt Dr. Wells had given him. He'd already pulled a thread loose.

"Do you want to go to your room?"

Barry started to shake his head, then stopped and whispered, "I don't know what to do."

His voice was so soft, Joe almost didn't hear it.

"I keep telling myself he isn't watching, but it feels like he is and I don't know what to do."

Joe came up and pulled Barry's head down onto his shoulder. It was going to take a while to get used to him being so tall. "How about we start with a shower?"

Barry nodded against his shoulder and Joe helped him up the stairs and into the bathroom. He'd have to get clothes for the kid tomorrow, but the sweatpants would do for now and Barry's old t-shirts were still hanging in his closet. Joe silently took back every negative thing he had ever said about the kid's choice of over-sized shirts. He slipped the clothes through a small opening, closed the door, and waited just on the other side, listening.

He didn't even know what he was listening for. Crying, sounds of distress, or just Barry taking a shower. It was stupid, but Joe didn't want to let him out of sight, not really. Crime didn't stop just because he'd gotten Barry back, though. Once Iris got home, he'd have to head back to the station to at least check in on the active cases he had on his desk.

Iris. He looked at his watch. He'd been standing there nearly fifteen minutes. The water cut off and he slipped down the stairs, pulling his phone out to call his daughter.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hi, honey, I just wanted to let you know…" actually, he should probably wait. She'd run every red light in the city if she knew Barry was there. "We have a guest."

"It's not your partner is it?" She was trying her best to sound put out, but he heard the nervousness behind it and pretended he didn't.

"No, not Eddie."

"Who is it?"

"Consider it a surprise."

"Fine, be cagey, but I better not be disappointed."

"You won't. Drive safe."

He hung up just as the sound of footsteps on the stairs alerted him to Barry's presence. "Who was that?"

Seeing Barry standing there wearing his old t-shirt, the sense of déjà-vu was a little intense, even if Barry wasn't a gangly limbed teenager, he could still see the kid in the man.

"Iris."

Barry's eyes darted down then back up nervously. "Does she know? About me?"

"That you're alive, yes. That you're awake? Let's just say I didn't want to endanger the lives of the good citizens of Central City." It was the same thing he had said about getting Iris a car when she turned sixteen and it brought back that smile again, a ghost of what it used to be, but important.

Joe sat on the couch and watched Barry standing on the last step, looking around the room, taking it in. "You want to sit down?"

He wasn't going to pretend it didn't hurt that Barry hesitated before coming to sit next to him, several feet away and stiff. They sat in silence for a minute before Joe took up the remote and turned on the news. There had been a bank robbery, two people were dead. He checked his phone on the side table, but he hadn't missed any calls.

Barry pushed himself into the corner and wrapped his arms around his legs while they watched.

"Do you want me to change it?"

Barry shook his head, riveted with his chin resting on his knees. As much as it pained him, Joe had to push. Not much, but a little. They only had a week.

"Barry?" He didn't move, but Joe saw him look over with his eyes. "I'm not saying you have to talk about it now, but I need to know what happened. Everything. It doesn't matter how small or insignificant you think it is. Any little detail could be the thing that gives this guy away."

He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't for Barry to drop his legs, scoot over and put his head on Joe's shoulder, relaxing into him. He'd had nightmares after his mom's death and a fear of the dark that made it hard to sleep. More then once, he'd come downstairs while Iris slept and sat on the couch with Joe, just like this. Joe wrapped his arm around Barry's shoulder, pulling him in.

"I want to tell you. I do."

"But?" Because Joe heard it, even if Barry didn't say it.

"I don't… I don't know how."

Joe didn't think for a second that was what Barry meant to say, but he'd pushed enough for one night. He kissed the top of Barry's head, his still damp hair. "We'll figure it out, Barr."

* * *

He really did want to tell Joe, but it was more then just the thought of Joe not believing that stopped him, because if Barry told him, if Joe believed him, if they went looking for the man in yellow, if they found him, if a hundred other impossibilities, Joe would try to protect him and he'd get himself killed. Barry couldn't let that happen. He owed it to them to do what little he could to keep them safe.


	2. Sticks and Stones (2)

**Sticks and Stones (2/2)**

While they waited for Iris, they watched the news. There were so many things he didn't understand, but it was nice to know something, anything from outside of that room. Countless hours reading until his eyes stung, but he felt like he didn't know anything.

When the front door unlocked, it caught them both off guard. They turned to see Iris come in, looking through her purse as she stepped in and closed the door with her free hand, oblivious. "Hi, Dad, sorry I'm late. Traffic was… oh my god, Barry?!"

She rushed forward, a blur of bright colored top and dark hair. Her hip hit the table on the way around and everything… slow down. The second dragged as the lamp and picture frame rocked precariously. Joe grabbed the frame, made for the lamp, but missed. His cringe was nearly comical when his hand closed around the empty space. The lamp hit the floor and shattered across the wood, shards moving in slow motion under the sofa, skidding over the Oriental rug – one made it across the room to rest under the chair.

 _What the…?_

Then Iris was on him, arms around his neck and it was all he could do not to pull away. He couldn't help the momentary flinch, but her tiny enthusiastic arms weren't _his_ and she didn't smell like _him_ or sound like _him_. The man in yellow had never laughed like he was crying with relief. He'd never touched Barry in a way that wasn't mean to hurt in some way. It was as easy to relax into her arms as it had been with Joe and he hugged her back tightly. It took her nearly a full minute to move away. She brushed his short hair off his forehead, her eyes wet and a little red, but she was smiling.

Joe cleared his throat and she turned, biting her lip in apology when her eyes fell on the mess scattered across the floor. "Sorry, dad."

He shook his head. "Don't worry. I'll get the vacuum. You two catch up."

Iris sat down more fully and reached out again to touch his face, but seemed to think better of it, because she took his hands instead, pulling them into her lap. "How are you? Are you okay? I was so worried about you."

"I'm fine, just… you know what, I'm tired?"

She laughed, "Trust you, Barry Allen, to sleep nine months and wake up exhausted."

He'd meant emotionally and mentally, not physically. Physically he felt strangely alert, more then he had in years. It was nice that she'd taken it the other way.

"And hungry. I'm really, really hungry."

"Chinese?" She tipped her head expectantly and he nodded numbly, suddenly overwhelmed at the idea that there were choices. "Lo mien, or…?"

"Lo Mien is good." He used to like Lo mien. He probably still did.

"I'll order, you," she patted his knee and gave him the Iris-pointed-finger-of-seriousness, "don't move."

While she was gone, Joe vacuumed the smaller mess around the table and Barry kept his feet up, watching little shard get sucked up into the red canister. It hadn't been real, couldn't have. It had to be some kind of hallucination. Maybe he was having a psychotic break. That would be just his luck, finally out of that room only to go insane and be put in a psychiatric hospital.

Something touched his shoulder and he jerked away to find himself looking at Joe. He hadn't heard the vacuum turn off, or Joe put it away, but he didn't see it anywhere. The clock said it had been three minutes. "You okay, Barr?"

"Huh?" He tasted copper and pulled back his hand. He'd bitten the side of his finger to bleeding again. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Habit."

Joe nodded slowly, but Barry knew that as much as he was taking mental notes on everything that had changed in the world around him, Joe was doing the same for everything that had changed about him. He'd never bitten his fingers before. He'd never sat with his knees pulled up.

"Look, Iris is here and if you don't mind, I need to go into the station to check up on a few things." He didn't want to say yes, but there wasn't a reason to say no. Joe sensed his hesitation and offered, "It's only for a few hours, but if you need me to stay…"

"No. No, I'll be fine." Because want, yes. He really, really wanted Joe there, but need was different.

After a moment, Joe squeezed his raised knee. "All right, I'll be back. Don't let Iris eat my General Taos."

Iris came in and dropped back onto the sofa. "If you don't want me to eat your General Taos, maybe you should be here to eat it yourself."

"I love you, too. I won't be too late."

Barry tried for a smile, that probably came closer to a cringe, but Iris was too busy looking at Joe to notice and Joe didn't seem concerned. Good, that was good.

She sighed heavily as the front door closed and locked, then grabbed the remote. "So, what do you want to watch? They have Stargate on Netflix."

"Netflix?" Wasn't that the company that mailed out DVD's?

Her smile turned devious. "Oh, Barry, you are about to discover the joy of binge watching."

* * *

Despite his promise, Joe didn't get back until well after midnight. The bank robbery had been a jumbled mess of statements that didn't make any sense – impossible weather and a dead man, if he believed the witnesses.

Iris was on the stairs just inside the door, a mug clutched in both hands. The television was on, barely audible and he recognized a scene from a series Barry had been into before he went missing – Not Star Wars. Star Trek? No, it was Stargate, with the alien worms that crawled into the back of people's necks to take control of them. The concept alone had given him the creeps, but the show hadn't been half bad.

Iris didn't take her eyes off the back of the couch when he entered, and kept her voice low, just above a whisper. "He fell asleep about an hour ago. I didn't have the heart to wake him up."

"Let him sleep."

She nodded and looked into her mug. "Did he tell you what happened?"

"Did he tell you?"

"I didn't ask." She set the mug down next to her. "I mean, we had all those talks about what to do when he woke up, what to say, what not to say. I didn't think it would be so hard. I thought having him back would be enough, but it's so hard not to ask."

Joe sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sure you did fine."

"You're still in trouble for not giving me a head's up." She hugged him back. "However, for now, I'll have to settle for being filled in."

They took it into the kitchen and Joe picked at his General Taos while he told Iris what he knew and, more importantly, what he didn't.

"So, basically, we don't know anything more then we did before, other then Barry's alive."

"And he was taken."

"He was always taken."

He couldn't decide if it was her belief in Barry or her optimism of the world, but either way, there was no denying that this time, she'd been right. He just couldn't decide if he was happy about that or not.

Joe sighed, "You should get some sleep. Something tells me it's going to be a long day tomorrow."

Iris gave him one last hug and Joe watched her leave before putting his food in the fridge. He'd let Barry or her have at it in the morning. It wouldn't be like it used to. Barry wouldn't race to beat Iris to the fridge, trying to shove her out of the way to have first pick of the leftovers, but they'd spent nine months preparing for if he came home – when, Iris always insisted it was 'when.' They had to make things as normal as possible without overcrowding him, couldn't go out of the way to do anything special, just the things he was comfortable with before and watch for signs that they were making him uncomfortable now.

Technically, Iris shouldn't have thrown herself at him like that, but then Joe had done the same thing, so he couldn't blame her. Iris had turned off the television on her way up and Joe turned out the light in the hall before he sat on the chair, the moon giving just enough light through the open curtains to let him watch Barry's sleeping form on the couch.

* * *

 _The lights went out. Without windows, the room was so dark he couldn't see his hand in front of his face._

 _Barry's chest seized, he tightened his grip on the book he'd been reading because it was the closest thing to a weapon he had, even if he wouldn't use it, wouldn't risk having that privilege taken away again. The door opened and he pushed away from it, away from the silhouette coming through and the glowing red eyes that watched as he pulled his knees up._

 _"Please, don't."_

 _The figure moved steadily closer, not bothering to use his speed as he approached. It was worse this way, a reminder that even when the man wasn't using whatever powers he had, he was still stronger than Barry, still more than capable of holding him down. Barry used to fight harder during this. He used to think he had a chance of getting away. He knew better now._

 _The man stopped at the side of the bed and Barry twitched with the urge to get up and run. "Please, don't, please."_

 _The back of a hand hit him across the face. The book hit the floor as his arms were grabbed and he was pinned down by the body settling over him, straddling his waist. His wrists were pulled over his head and captured in one large, leather clad hand. The man's other hand wrapped around his mouth, stopping the litany of please and don't and no that didn't mean anything._

 _Hot breath against his ear was accompanied by sickeningly familiar words. "Don't disappoint me, Barry."_

 _He closed his eyes against the invitation, because this wasn't about just hurting Barry, this was about proving he could do it without the help of his power. He didn't want begging. He wanted Barry to fight and fail and as bad as that was, laying there and taking it was so much worse._

 _The body over him shifted to lie down, forcing his legs apart and Barry let himself react on instinct. He bit the hand over his mouth, getting mostly leather as he jerked his wrists down. One of his hands came free and he used it to push at the man's shoulder, the glove was yanked out from between his teeth, only to wrap around Barry's throat, squeezing tight enough to make breathing difficult, but not impossible. It wasn't any fun if Barry lost consciousness._

 _Barry pried at the fingers, wishing he could stop biting his nails so he'd have at least some kind of weapon. The sound of a belt being unbuckled spurred him and he kicked his heels into the bed, twisting and bucking in an attempt to get a foot between them. The man dropped down to press their chests together and prevent the tactic._

 _Without the buckle of the yellow suit digging into his sternum, Barry knew it was half over already, but that didn't stop him from trying. It didn't stop him from driving elbows into the man's shoulders, trying to get the nerve. The hand on his neck shifted, forced Barry's head to turn to the left and teeth sank into that same nerve, viscous enough to draw blood. The shock of pain was enough to make him go limp for a second, which was all his captor needed to re-gather his wrists effortlessly and pin them above his head again, the grip tighter and more sure as he worked the strings of Barry's scrubs with his other hand._

"Barry! Barry, wake up!"

He kicked out at the figure leaning over him and was surprised when it actually worked and the man backed away. Not that he'd never landed a blow, but the man in yellow was always ready for it. Without giving himself time to think about what that meant, he sat up and a rush of movement burst through him like static. It lasted a fraction of a second, but put him on the other side of the room… in a foyer pressed into a corner between the stairs and a coat closet? There was a thin blanket wrapped around one of his legs and clutched in his hand. Joe was next to the couch, doubled over, coughing with an arm pressed over his stomach.

Right, he wasn't in the room, he was home. He remembered sitting on the sofa with Iris, falling asleep while they watched television and then he must have been dreaming and Joe had woken him up, only to get kicked for his efforts. Barry winced, but more important then that, was what had happened after, because when he'd moved it had been like the night before – like the world was slowing down around him. Worse, he was shaking so hard it felt like he was vibrating. No, he _was_ vibrating. He held his arm up and stared at the sickeningly familiar blur, only this time it was his own hand.

"Barry?" He quickly tucked the arm away, because he was hallucinating, he had to be, but he couldn't look at that and pull himself together at the same time. Joe was straightening up, watery eyed and still holding his midsection. "How did you get over there?"

Barry shook his head, confused.

"You okay?"

He hesitated and settled on. "Bad dream."

Joe finished standing with a groan. "Iris left a few minutes ago to get you some clothes. I was thinking about making breakfast if you're hungry."

Barry's legs shook under him, but it was the normal kind, not the vibrating of the hallucination. That was better, but he couldn't ignore it. He'd read about hallucinations. Regardless of circumstance, they were never a good thing.

"Joe? I, uh… I think I need to see Dr. Wells." Joe clearly didn't like the idea, but Barry wasn't going to back down. "I don't feel good. Maybe something to do with the whole being in a coma for nine months or getting struck by lightning, but I should, you know, get it checked out."

"Or maybe the Chinese didn't agree with you?"

"But just to be sure."

After a brief pause, Joe nodded. "I have a case I need to work on. When Iris gets back, you can get dressed and I'll drop you off on my way to the station. In the meantime, how do you feel about eggs and bacon?"

* * *

Dr. Wells met them outside on the sidewalk as Joe's car pulled up. Barry had always been good at reading Joe from a glance. Between Iris and him, they used to be able to take one look at his face when he walked in the door and know what kind of night it was going to be. He was a little surprised he hadn't lost that. Joe was clearly nervous about leaving Barry, so Barry managed a tense smile and said, "I'll call if I need anything."

Iris had brought home a phone for him along side the clothes and while Joe got ready, she'd shown him the wonder that was the smartphone. He'd had it for a little under three hours now and he didn't know how he'd ever lived without it. It had Iris and Joe's numbers programmed in, as well as the number to Barry's favorite pizza place, a game called Bejewled, and, most importantly, the internet. He'd missed the internet.

Barry waited until Joe's car was out of site before following Dr. Wells up the ramp. As the automatic door opened slid noiselessly open, he stopped in front of it.

If walking out of the building had been hard the day before, the idea of walking back in was suffocating – the florescent lights shining off the metal walls of the hallway that wasn't much smaller in width then the room. The soft whir of Dr. Wells' wheel chair reminded him of the hum he heard when the man in yellow vibrated.

The urge to run was nearly paralyzing and he had to remind himself of why he was there. He needed to know if he was a threat. If he kept his head down, didn't look at the walls, maybe it would be better. Focus down, one foot in front of the other, don't think about how close the walls were, or that there wasn't anywhere to run to if…

"Breathe, Mr. Allen."

He sucked in air, unaware of the black spots clouding his vision until they cleared. When he had it under control, he nodded and walked into the building. In some ways, it wasn't as bad as he'd feared. The hallway was a circle and if there was an end, he couldn't see it, but the walls on either side were harder to ignore. If he stretched out, he could touch them but he managed to keep his head up and follow Dr. Wells' wheelchair until they reached the room he remembered as the cortex. The same one he'd woken up in the day before. The large windows opening up to the sky relieved some of the aching tension in his chest.

The other two were there as well. Cisco was still out of place in dark jeans and video game t-shirt, long hair tucked behind his ears and a big smile. Barry had thought maybe he'd over-exaggerated that smile because he'd been so desperate for anything kind, but even after a night's sleep, it was still just as open and inviting as he remembered.

"Barry, my man!"

Cisco reached out a hand and when Barry accepted it, he pulled him into, clapping his back like they were friends. Maybe they were. If anyone here were his friend, it was Cisco.

Dr. Snow stood a respectable distance away, also looking the same as the day before – neatly dressed and pulled together. "Barry, you look… better."

Because 'good' would have been a stretch, not with him still a little shaky from walking down the hallway. He appreciated the honesty.

Dr. Wells wheeled around the face him and put his hands in his lap, all business, but certainly not unkind. "What brings you here, Barry? Detective West said you weren't feeling well?"

"No, I…" He looked nervously around at Cisco still smiling, Dr. Snow with her eyebrows drawn curiously, and Dr. Wells patiently waiting for him to find the words. "I think I'm hallucinating."

"Really?" Dr. Snow came forward quickly, took his wrist in one hand and put a digital thermometer in his ear with the other before turning to Dr. Wells. "His pulse is fast, temperature still elevated."

Dr. Wells kept his gaze steady on Barry. "What kind of hallucinations?"

"Just… seeing things that can't be real."

"You'll have to be more specific then that, Mr. Allen."

"Iris knocked over a lamp and it was like…" He had to take a deep breath before continuing, "it was like it fell in slow motion and this morning when I woke up, it happened again, and I thought I saw my arm vibrating."

Dr. Wells and Dr. Snow exchanged meaningful stares. He'd half expected Cisco to back away when he'd made the confession, but he hadn't. If anything, Cisco looked almost… excited?

"Can we do it?" Cisco had his hands shoved deep into his pockets, rocking on his heels like it was Christmas. "Please tell me we can do it."

Dr. Wells nodded. "I think we'd better."

Barry looked between them, almost more nervous now then he had been five minutes ago trying to convince himself to follow Dr. Wells into the building. "Do what?"

* * *

There wasn't much of an explanation as to what they were expecting, just assurances as they drove him to a private airstrip. Being outside was an improvement, unfortunately, that was the only improvement. The red unitard Cisco had given him pulled too tight, leaving him uncomfortable exposed. He'd spent ten years in lose fitting scrubs. Even the jeans Iris had bought were an uncomfortable stretch and they were by no means tight. At least there wasn't anyone around to see, well, other then Cisco, Dr. Snow, and Dr. Wells.

Cisco, however, was still a smiling ball of enthusiasm and Barry wasn't sure why, but he was beginning to think that was just… Cisco.

Dr. Snow mirrored his disbelief in her words to Dr. Wells. "You don't really think he can move that fast, do you?" She looked back, apologetic. "No offense, Barry."

He shrugged, because, really, none taken. He'd said much the same thing back at the lab when Dr. Wells had tried to quell his nervousness by saying all he had to do was run.

In response to Dr. Snow, Dr. Wells repeated almost the exact same words he'd said to Barry. "I believe anything is possible and, in a few minutes, maybe you will too."

Cisco led Barry to the open stretch of tarmac. "See, you thought the world was slowing down. It wasn't. You were moving so fast, it only looked like everyone else was standing still." He motioned to the small set up of computers under the blue pop up tent. "Dr. Wells will be monitoring your energy output and Caitlin your vitals."

"What do you do?"

"I make the toys, my man." Of course he did. "Check it, this is a two way headset with a camera I modified, typically…" he stopped, catching the nervous frown on Barry's face, then reached up and pulled off the helmet. "Hey, don't worry. You came to us for help, right? Let us do our thing and you just focus on yours."

"What's my thing?"

Dr. Wells smiled at him from his wheelchair in front of the monitors. "Run, Mr. Allen. As fast as you can."

While Cisco went to attach the camera to the helmet, Dr. Snow came over and tapped at the monitors strapped to his chest. "Dr. Snow?"

"Caitlin."

"What?"

She looked up from her tablet, face softened, but still serious. "I helped bathe you for nine months. Call me Caitlin."

"Oh. Okay." He hadn't thought much about the nine months in a coma. "What do you think is wrong with me?"

"Nothing." She tapped at her screen a few more times before meeting his gaze. "There's nothing wrong with you. I think you've been through something horrible and your mind is trying to cope with that."

"Thank you."

She gave him a tight smile and went back to Dr. Wells. As they finished the set up, Barry breathed deep, looking around him to distract from his nervousness. Dr. Wells had said it was a private air strip. It definitely felt private. The only thing he could see stretched out in front of him were the mountain tops in the distance. It was both comforting and terrifying – so many places to run, but no where to actually hide.

Cisco helped him put the helmet back on, adjusting the straps until they were snug under his chin. "You ready?"

Barry glanced at Dr. Wells, who nodded and Cisco stepped back, holding up his radar gun.

"Let's do this!"

He set his feet on the track and waited for… something, anything, aware of eyes on him. Like when he was in the room, little cameras in every corner, blinking red, reminding him that he was being watched – always and everything, no matter what he was doing. They were set too high for him to reach, like they were taunting him, but then he was always taunting Barry.

 _"Scream, Barry."_

 _"Fight, Barry."_

 _"Don't disappoint me, Barry."_

"Run, Barry."

A jolt of electricity ran through him and Barry was moving. Faster then he'd ever moved before and he was getting faster. The world was moving past in a blur and he knew, he _knew,_ it wasn't a hallucination. This was real.

He felt something inside him charge with static and dug into it. The speed increased. His mind raced with how and what and when. How had this happened? Had the man in yellow done this to him? _How_ had he done this to him? He would have remembered, because if there was one thing that hadn't been done to him, it was drugs. He'd wanted Barry conscious for everything, even when Barry didn't want to be. Had it been in the food? Barry always assumed the food was safe, because it never left him feeling any different, but what if he'd been wrong?

The grass on either side was a green blur and he blinked, suddenly remembering the night he was taken and the blur of color and light. They'd been moving so fast, he couldn't tell where they were going, couldn't make out defining landmarks or shops or stores as everything blurred together like an abstract painting with only flashes of recognizable color, before…

He came to a crashing halt, pain lancing up his arm from a definitely broken wrist. He held it to his chest and breathed through the pain, teeth clenched. He pushed up just enough to see the others moving in the distance, hopefully getting the car ready to come pick him up. His whole body ached from the impact with the dented and broken barrels around him. Water was soaking into the unitard.

Barry dropped onto the ground. He was going to be one big bruise, in a cast for at least a month, probably more, but despite that, he'd never felt this exhilarated. Let that sick bastard try and catch him now.

* * *

"What do you mean _used to be_ broken?"

"I mean, it's healed. In three hours." She showed him the x-rays. In one, his wrist had a very clear broken bone, a fragment completely separated from the rest and in the other… it was like nothing had happened. Wait, no, it was like nothing had _ever_ happened. That couldn't be right.

He couldn't take his eyes off the x-ray. He should have felt the difference, but he'd been too overwhelmed with everything else. There was no dull ache, no weak tingle in his fingers when he clenched them. "Do you have a pen?"

"Um…" Caitlin looked around the room, and reached over the desk coming back with a ballpoint.

Barry took it in his right hand, holding it gently at first and then more firmly. "Paper."

Cisco beat her to it, handing over a yellow pad with doodles all over it in chaotic order. Some work related, some clearly not. Barry flipped a few pages to a clean sheet and carefully wrote out his name.

Caitlin watched over his shoulder. "I don't understand."

Dr. Wells answered her question, which was good, because Barry didn't think he could. "The original x-rays. If I remember correctly, the damage was quite extensive."

Extensive didn't cover it. The first time it had been broken was an accident. He'd left Barry there for weeks with the injury before coming back to find it had healed wrong. He'd had to re-break the arm to set it correctly. Barry had blessedly passed out during the process. The second, third, and fourth times, though, the man in yellow had used his hand to vibrate the arm until the bone under it shattered. He'd set it right after, let it heal, but it had never been the same, always weak and he couldn't hold a fist for very long before his fingers started to go numb. Barry had known that even with physical therapy, the odds were he'd never get full use of it back.

Now it was like it had never happened.

Caitlin's eyes lit up and she walked off, tapping her screen. She was probably comparing those first x-rays to the ones she'd just taken. He'd never seen the first ones, but he didn't want to. The implications of what it meant were settling it and he was thinking about other things that might have healed – scars he hadn't wanted to look at. There were memories associated with each and every one of them, etched deeply into him and when he'd showered the night before, he hadn't wanted to think about it, so he hadn't looked. Now he wondered if they were even there at all.

Cisco was glued to his monitor, re-watching the footage they'd gotten of him running, Caitlin had her data and Barry looked at the pen in his hand, rather then Dr. Wells, who was sitting not far away, watching him. He didn't like being watched or studied, but that wasn't Dr. Wells' fault.

"Barry, can you explain why you thought you were hallucinating this morning?" When Barry didn't answer, he pressed. "Of everything, why that?"

Cisco had frozen, eyes still on the screen, but unmoving, definitely listening. Caitlin was less obvious, but he had not doubt she was paying more attention to him than to her tablet.

"He moved like that. The man in yellow. He moved so fast you couldn't see him."

"Man in yellow?" That was Cisco, not bothering to pretend anymore and if Barry focused on Cisco, talking was easier.

"Yeah, um, he wore a yellow suit with a mask. I never saw his face." He hesitated before adding, "He's the same person that killed my mom, but I don't think he meant to."

Dr. Wells moved closer, almost close enough to touch Barry's leg. "What makes you say that?"

"When I was a kid, I saw him. He was in my house. Then five years later, he comes back and takes me. If my mom was the target, he wouldn't have come back after she was dead. He was there for me and something got in the way."

"Very clever, Barry."

He wasn't sure what was so clever about it, but Cisco sat down next to him and dropped a Tootsie Roll Pop in his lap. "I think you need that more than I do."

Dr. Wells gave the candy a distasteful glance, but ignored it. "You should know, that we believe what's happened to you isn't just the result of being struck by lightning, but has more to do with the explosion of the particle accelerator."

"Particle accelerator?" He'd read about those. They were theoretical as far as he knew. Of course, he would have said the same about touch-screen technology until earlier that same day.

"Yes, nine months ago the particle accelerator went on line exactly as planned. For forty five minutes, I had achieved my life's dream and then… then there was an anomaly. The electron volts became unmeasurable, the ring under us popped, energy from that detonation was thrown into the sky and that in turn seeded a storm cloud that created a lightning bolt that struck you."

Cisco leaned over and whispered, "It went boom."

"Thank you, Cisco. From where Mr. Allen was in the police department, I'm sure he was able to see it."

"No." Barry set the pen and paper down, rubbed his hand on his jeans nervously and picked up the Tootsie Roll Pop, rolling the stick in his fingers. "I wasn't watching."

"Really?"

"Yeah, well, he said to wait, he didn't say I had to watch. I'm sure he wanted me to, but… it's the little fights you win that keep you sane." Dr. Wells' smile didn't waver so much as it tightened and Barry hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. So, what did it do?"

"That's still something of a mystery, but I don't think you're the only anomaly. I've had Caitlin and Cisco monitoring the city for any signs of other meta-humans."

"Meta-humans?"

Caitlin sat at her desk, putting the tablet aside. "That's what we're calling them. Of course, until a few hours ago, they were theoretical."

"Oh." Wait. "The news. Last night on the news there were reports of a bank robbery. The witnesses said there was a storm inside the bank. That sounds… I mean, it could be. Right?"

Dr. Wells nodded, "We're aware."

Caitlin perked up. "I've re-tasked S.T.A.R. Labs' satellites to track meteorological abnormalities over Central City. If anything changes, I'll know."

"We should tell the police. Joe could…"

"Joe wouldn't believe us and you know that. Otherwise, he would have been here today." Barry flushed, caught between anger and embarrassment. "Now, I'd like to run some tests before…"

"No, I'm calling Joe."

"Mr. Allen, I caution against bringing Detective West into this. I'm not exactly the most popular person in Central City at the moment. The more people who know, the more complicated this becomes."

"For who?" He hadn't meant to say it and he immediately shied away from Dr. Wells' displeased frown. "I'm sorry, I didn't…"

Cisco patted his leg, stopping him. "Don't worry. His bark is worse than his bite."

Barry wasn't so sure about that, but then he hadn't seen anything to indicate otherwise. He had to think about this. He'd read enough psychology. What did it say? What was he doing? Displacement. He wasn't angry with Dr. Wells, he was angry with the man who'd abducted him, but that man wasn't here and Dr. Wells was. Dr. Wells was the closest thing to an authority figure that wasn't family and Barry was acting out against his suggestion because he couldn't act out against the person he wanted to.

Maybe Dr. Wells was right. Maybe telling Joe before they understood it fully was a bad idea, but if Barry didn't tell him and he ran into this meta-human, Joe would be blindsided and that wasn't going to end well, either.

Dr. Wells' hand touched his leg, in the same place Cisco's had, but Barry was moving before he'd realized he intended to. He stopped half out the door. "I just… air. I need air."

"Of course. Cisco?"

Barry grabbed his jacket and followed Cisco down the hall. Outside it was dark, but clear. He kept walking until he was at the far end of the little courtyard, his back to the cement wall. Central City was lit up, even at night, and only the brightest stars were visible, but Barry stared up at the few he could see, counting and identifying them as a way of distracting himself from his own thoughts.

Cisco stood by the door, watching him for a few minutes before moving to join. "You okay?"

Barry considered saying he was fine, but something about Cisco inspired honesty. "Not really, but it's not you."

"I get that." He pointed up at the sky. "Do you know which one that is?"

"It's Mars."

"Huh. Iris never said anything about you being into astronomy."

"I'm not." He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, still staring up. "He gave me books, mostly science and nature. There were three on astronomy towards the end. It was more interesting then Arachnology."

"I love astronomy. I like the idea there's something bigger out there."

"I think I have enough to deal with right here."

"Well said." Cisco continued to lean against the wall beside him, both of them silent.

Barry looked across at the glass door, closed, but waiting. It wasn't anything they'd done, not really, but it was a lot, too much. Nine months had passed for them, but for him, it had only been two days since he was let out and he still wasn't sure why or when the man in yellow was going to come back for him. He wasn't sure what he was doing or what he was _going_ to do. This new thing he could do was amazing, but a little scary. So, maybe Dr. Wells was right. Dragging Joe into this before he'd had time to think about the consequences wasn't a good idea.

All he really knew was, he couldn't go back in there, not tonight.

"Hey, I'm gonna call Joe, have him pick me up." Cisco didn't say anything, but he added, "I won't tell him anything."

"No, man, don't." Cisco leaned over to bump his shoulder and part of Barry wanted to run from that familiarity while the other part wanted to lean into it. "Look, Dr. Wells is just worried, about himself, sure, but also you, me, Caitlin."

"Caitlin?"

"Oh yeah. Man, she lost everything. Her career, her reputation." He hesitated, "Her fiancé was killed in the explosion. We all lost a lot that night."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I just wanted you to know. He's only doing what he thinks is best for everyone, even you."

Maybe Cisco was right. "Thanks."

Joe picked up on the second ring. "Barry, are you okay?"

"Yeah, no, I'm…" he cut a glance at Cisco looking at the stars again. "I'm good, actually."

"You're sure?"

Barry caught the suggestive tone behind the question and smiled. Sure that he was good, that nothing was wrong, that no one was listening. Even after ten years, he hadn't forgotten the safe word. It would have changed by now. Safe words were like passwords, you couldn't keep the same one for too long, but he'd bet Joe remembered the last one he gave Barry, too.

"Really, no need to pull out the Red October, but it's getting late."

Beside him, Cisco looked over with raised eyebrows, but Barry waved him off, he'd explain later.

"All right, but if you're really okay, call Iris and have her pick you up."

"Why?"

"We got a lead on that bank robbery and I'm following up."

The bank robber who was potentially a meta-human. "Lead? What kind of lead?"

"You know I can't tell you that. Don't worry, I have backup."

"But…"

"We're here. I'll call you later."

He hung up and Barry stared at the phone for several seconds before turning and marching to the door, purpose searing through him. Cisco raced to keep up. "Hey, wait up, what's going on?"

"It's Joe, they're looking for the bank robber."

"The one that…"

"Yes."

Cisco opened the door and ran up ahead, opening the access door to the inner hall as well. The walls weren't pressing in on Barry anymore, he hardly even noticed them as he ran through, pushing for that extra burst of speed that put him in the cortex in only a moment.

"Caitlin!" She looked up from her terminal, startled, Dr. Wells was beside her. "I need to know where the meta-human is."

"I don't… I mean, unless he uses his… powers," she rolled her eyes a little at the word and Barry couldn't blame her. It made it sound like something out of a comic book. "I have no way of tracking him."

"But if he does, you'll know where he is."

"Well," she glanced at Dr. Wells before saying, "theoretically."

"Okay, good." He sat down in a chair, leaned forward with his elbows. "Anything yet?"

She shook her head and he looked at his hands instead of her, because he wasn't even sure it was anything. Leads didn't always pan out, but he had a bad feeling, something twisting up inside his gut.

Dr. Wells moved around the side of the desk. "Barry, what are you…"

Cisco came barreling through the doors, panting. He looked around the room, from Caitlin at her terminal, to Barry hunched forward in the chair, to Dr. Wells, staring back at him. "What?"

Instead of answering, Dr. Wells turned his attention back to Barry. "You need to tell me what's going on, Barry."

Barry dragged a hand through his hair, wishing it was longer so he could get a grip to pull it, center himself with something familiar. "Joe said he was checking a lead on the bank robber – the one you said might be a meta-human."

"Checking up on a lead doesn't mean he'll find anything."

"But what if he does? The witnesses said there was a storm _inside_ the bank. What if this man is a meta-human that can somehow create weather patterns? Joe can't fight that."

Dr. Wells moved closer, ignoring Barry's flinch away from him. He wasn't even sure why he was flinching, because it wasn't like Dr. Wells posed any kind of threat, but there was authority in the man's voice and in his posture, even from a wheelchair.

"Barry, this is not your fight. You are not a hero. You are a scarred young man who has been to what I can only describe as hell and you have just gotten back. You woke up from a coma two days ago and before that you were kidnapped, held by a psychopath, and tortured for ten years. You are not mentally capable of defending even yourself at the moment, let alone Detective West. He's a police officer. This is his job."

A hand touched his knee and Barry stood, moving away. "He doesn't even know what he's walking into."

"And he's trained for that. You're not. At the risk of sounding selfish, inside your body could be a map to a whole new world – genetic therapies, vaccines, medicines, treasures buried deep without your cells. Barry, you broke your wrist and it healed in three hours. The things that were done to you and there is absolutely no evidence of it. No healed fractures, no scarring, nothing, inside or out. You can't…"

"I've got a ping!" Caitlin looked up, seemingly startled by her own outburst. "Oh… I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry, Dr. Wells, but the atmospheric pressure just dropped twenty millibars in a mater of seconds. I've tracked it to a farm just west of the city. It has to be him."

"Joe." Barry started to walk for the door, only to have Cisco stand in his way. "Cisco, move."

"No, I'm not stopping you, man, I'm not, but if you're going to do this, I've got something you need to see."

* * *

The suit was everything Cisco had said it would be. It moved with him, didn't burn under his feet like his sneakers had on the tarmac that afternoon. The only thing that didn't work was the facemask. It restricted his airflow, but he couldn't take it off yet, he had to focus on where he was going. Direction wasn't a problem, at least. The dark clouds hanging low in the sky and centered to the left of the city kind of gave away the meta-human's location.

Navigating the streets was a little more difficult. He had to jog his memory with Cisco and Caitlin chattered in his ear about his vitals and road blocks and detours. As he skidding into the scene, he barely had time to assess the situation and dodge under the debris, pushing it to the side to prevent it from crushing Joe and his partner. He ripped the mask off, taking gulps of fresh air to clear his head, letting the pain of the impact wash over him, while he looked around and…

 _Oh, fu…_

Cisco's voice piped into his head. "Barry? Barry, this thing is getting closer. Wind speeds are 200 miles per hour and increasing. Barry, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, loud and clear."

"If this keeps up it could become an F5 tornado."

He could see that. He was looking right at it and behind that, he could see the city. "But it's headed towards the city. How do I stop it?"

And with that, it hit him harder then the debris he'd just thrown himself into. This wasn't just about Joe. There were people in that city. Thousands of people who would be dead or injured if he didn't do something. Iris, Cisco, Cailtin, Dr. Wells… his dad. He hadn't even seen his dad yet. Just being out of the room had been overwhelming enough that he hadn't really thought about it. If he didn't stop the tornado from ripping apart the city, he might never get the chance.

There was only silence on the other end. "Guys?"

Still nothing and all the books he'd read on weather patterns meant nothing, because none of it was about stopping a tornado, it was always about predicting one. He followed the twisting column up. When he was a kid, back before his mom's death, he used to watch the little funnel the water made when it drained from the bath. Sometimes he'd take his finger and move it around in the opposite direction as fast as he could until it disappeared and then watch it form again. In theory, he could do the same thing here.

"What if I unravel it?"

Caitlin's disbelieving voice cut in. "How the hell are you gonna do that?"

"I'll run around it in the opposite direction, cut off its legs."

He could hear Cisco saying something to her, too low for Barry to catch over the roar of wind around him, but then Caitlin come back with, "Your body may not be able to handle those speeds. You'll die."

He dies or an entire city dies. Everyone he cared about. "I have to try."

He could feel Joe's eyes burning holes in him from where he was crouched next to the car and Barry took a second to look at him, a silent apology, because even if he was wearing a mask, there was no denying Joe had heard his voice and knew it was him, but Barry didn't have to time explain. Instead, he put everything he had into a burst of speed, throwing himself into a spiral around the tornado.

He pushed to go faster. Then faster still. His legs burned, his heart beat hard and aching in his chest, but he had to keep pushing, he had to… a shock of pain threw him to the side and he rolled to a stop, crawling onto his hands and knees only to see the storm getting bigger. "He's too strong."

"You can do this, Barry."

Dr. Wells?

"I was wrong. You are strong, far stronger then I gave you credit for. You, Barry, are a fighter. I am responsible for what is happening in this city. So many people have been hurt because of me and when I looked at you all I saw was another victim and yes, I created this madness, but you, Barry, you can stop it. You can do this. Now, run, Barry, run!"

He could. He could do this and if he died, he was going to die fighting and it wouldn't be in that damn room.

This time when he ran, he had purpose and there was power behind that. This time, he focused on his target. There was a man not much older then him in the middle, black leather jacket and tousled blond hair, trying to keep up with Barry's movement. The force of the wind against Barry's face stung, ripped at the hood, but he could feel it working, the counter wind wasn't as strong, making it easier for him to pick up speed. He ducked his head and pushed for one last burst. The hood ripped off, but suddenly the resistance was gone and he was thrown to the ground.

"Barry?"

He ignored Caitlin's plea for reassurance, mostly because he hadn't caught his breath just yet, but also because he was trying to get to his feet to face the meta-human walking towards him from the dusty remains of the tornado with a gun in his hand.

The meta-human stared him down, weaving and unsteady from the exertion of trying to keep the storm going. "I didn't know there was anyone else like me."

"I'm not like you." He was a little relieved to find that he sounded steadier then he felt. "I'm not a murderer."

The meta-human didn't respond other then to raise his gun and Barry tensed. He was still a little dizzy, but he'd almost gotten his breath back and the healing properties of his new ability were repairing the burned out muscles in his legs with every passing second. If he could run fast enough to unravel a tornado, he should be able to dodge a bullet, but that didn't make it any less intimidating.

The sharp report of a gun firing twice startled him, because it wasn't the one currently pointed at him that had been fired. The meta-human fell back, already dead or dying and Barry turned to see Joe racing to him.

"Barry?" Caitlin. He'd forgotten for a second they were listening.

"It's over. I'm okay."

As Joe got closer, Barry let himself drop to his knees, grateful and relieved and still more then a little terrified. Joe dropped down with him and Barry tried to think of something to say. He wasn't the kid Joe had taken in ten years ago – not mentally and now, not even physically. He was someone new, some _thing_ new. Just like the man who'd taken him.

Then Joe reached forward and patted Barry's cheek, just once, before pulling him into a hug, hard, tight and confining, but just as comforting as the day before and just like then, Joe's soft whispers of, "It's okay. He's gone. You're okay." Made him feel like maybe he was or, at least, he was going to be.

* * *

Eddie had a serious head injury that Joe needed to call it in. Not to mention there were probably people already on the way. A random tornado popping up in the middle of a field just outside the city on a clear night was going to draw attention. Barry couldn't be there when they showed up.

Back at the lab, he traded the suit for his own clothes while Cisco asked questions about how it had performed. He was going to have to adjust the hood, tweak the sensors, did it chafe? By the time Caitlin dropped him off at home, it was morning and Barry passed out on the couch, waking up to the smell of fried pastry dough and sugar.

He rolled over onto his back on the couch and breathed in deep, afraid to open his eyes in case he was wrong. "Oh, sweet mother of god, are those donuts?"

Joe chuckled, "I got some on the way home."

Barry was up before the box hit the table with a promising thud. He flipped open the lid and grabbed one without looking, shoving it into his mouth while he moved back into the corner of the sofa, knees up. Joe sat down, took one for himself and for a few minutes, it felt like Barry had never left. It felt normal.

They both knew that wasn't going to work.

"Barry, what you can do, is that… did he do that to you? The man who took you, did he… experiment on you? Is that why you won't…"

"No! No, that… that was the lightning from the particle accelerator. It, uh, super charged me? I guess. They explained it, Dr. Wells and Cisco and Caitlin, but… it's a lot." He struggled to find more the words, but they stuck in his throat.

"Okay, but you have to level with me, Barry. I'm a detective, I'm trained to read people and you are not telling me everything. I can't protect you if I don't know what I'm protecting you from."

"I can…"

"No. No, Barry, you cannot protect yourself. Not from this. You think you can, you think you can push through this, but the honest truth is, no matter how powerful you think you are, you will more then likely freeze if you are faced with him again. You can't wipe ten years of torture in two days or even two months. Please, Barry, let me help you."

The last of the donut went down like lead, but despite that, he grabbed another one and tried to take his time. Tried to think. Joe couldn't protect him either way, but he also knew Joe wouldn't stop trying, not without the truth. Although, maybe he'd believe him this time.

"Do you remember when I was a kid and I used to say my dad didn't kill my mom?"

"What does that have to do with…?"

"Do you remember what I said? It was the man in the lightning. What did you see tonight when I was running?" The pause was significant and he didn't need an answer, because he already knew. "It was a man in a yellow suit that can move like I do and I know that, because he took me."

Joe stared, slack jawed and Barry tightened his arms around his knees to stop the shaking. "I was on my way home. It was late and I wanted to hurry, because I didn't want you to worry that I'd run off to Iron Hieghts again. So, I took a shortcut, around the back of the EZ Stop. The fence was busted, I could get through it, cut across the apartment complex and be home in half the time. Except before I could make it to the fence he came out of nowhere. I tried to scream or run, but the next thing I knew, he had me and we were moving. I fought back, I did, but it only lasted a minute and he moved so fast I couldn't see where we were going. Everything was one big blur and then he threw me into the room and I hit the wall hard enough that I blacked out for a second. By the time I could move the door was closed. He didn't open it again for a long time."

It took a minute, but Joe finally found his voice. "Why didn't you tell me?"

That, at least, was easy. "I didn't think you'd believe me."

Joe put a hand on Barry's head and he let himself fall over to rest on Joe's shoulder. "I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't trust me."

"It wasn't…"

"No, Barry, I didn't believe you about your mom. I sent you to therapists for five years trying to get you to tell me the truth when you'd been telling it to me from the beginning. I'm sorry." Barry closed his eyes and let the apology wash over him. "I will never doubt you again."

"Thank you. If you mean it, though, believe me when I say you can't protect me from him, Joe. Don't even try, because he will kill you."

He felt Joe nod into his hair. "Only if you promise that if you see him again you'll run and you won't stop until he's not chasing you anymore."

"I can do that." One more thing. "Do you think we could go see my dad?"

"Yeah, kid, we can do that."

"I'm not a kid. I'm twenty six." The hand on his head tightened in a friendly warning before letting go and Barry sat up, better then he'd felt in longer then he could remember. Joe knew and he believed him. That meant more then he'd realized it would.

* * *

There had been quite literally hundred of ways Eobard Thawne could have done this. From adopting Barry himself to simply sitting back and watching. He'd done the later for a time, but the idea of taking at least some of his anger out on the boy who would become the Flash had been so, so tempting and when the future didn't change after he took him, well, that told Eobard everything he needed to know.

Nothing he had done couldn't be undone. Well, not physically and as for the rest, Barry Allen had always been a survivor, a fighter. He'd always been strong and Barry had never disappointed him, not once in ten years. It had been hard letting him go. Even if he'd gotten him back a short time later. He hadn't expected to form such an attachment, but all good things came to end, however temporarily.

He read the headline that never changed and smiled. Soon. Very, very soon.

* * *

Iris waited until Barry was asleep, then she waited until her dad was asleep, as well. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew there was something they weren't telling her. It was in shared glances when they thought she wasn't looking. It was in the way Barry's smile was a little less strained. Something had happened.

It wasn't even that she thought it was a bad thing. Anything that could make Barry smile had to be at least half good. It was more that they weren't telling her.

So, she waited, and after they were asleep, she slipped out the back door and took out her cell. "Hey, Felicity, how are you? Remember that friend I told you about? Yeah, the one in the coma. He woke up. Thanks, but… I need your help with something, or, actually, I think I may need Oliver."


	3. Two Steps Forward

**Summary:** Most of the time, it was good days, except when it wasn't.

* * *

 **Two Steps Forward**

Most of the time, it was good days.

Barry woke in the morning a little startled, disoriented, but quickly remembered where he was and it took a few minutes, sure, but he could put himself back together before anyone came looking for him. He'd spend the morning watching television and going over books for the GED until Joe and Iris left and then he'd pack everything up and run to S.T.A.R. Labs for the day.

Being the Flash was exhilarating. It gave him something to focus on, something to distract him from his own thoughts and the replay of memories that threatened to overwhelm him at times. With every criminal he stopped, every person he saved, he felt less and less like the helpless little boy he'd been in the room. He was running faster, getting stronger.

When there wasn't crime to fight, he sat around watching Cisco work. There was an enthusiasm about the young man that was contagious. The way he constantly fussed with his hair while he worked, letting the same Twizzler hang there uneaten for hours or tucking a Tootsie Roll Pop into his cheek like a sugar crazed chipmunk, the way he smiled when he figured something out, his excited bounce when it worked the way he wanted.

Dr. Wells was always there, but not always with them. He had an office somewhere near the cortex and he was there when they needed him. Dr. Wells was quiet and reserved. He watched a lot and it made Barry uncomfortable sometimes, but he was always patient, no matter what Barry was working through.

Barry always made sure he was home before Iris, but she had work and school and a boyfriend to see behind Joe's back, which took up most of her day and some of her nights. So, it was easy enough to not be missed.

When she did get home, he was on the couch or at the table, waiting for her and they'd talk about her day and she'd ask him stupid questions about what he did with his day, what shows he was catching up on, and offer to watch some with him. They never talked about the room. It wasn't that he didn't think she could handle it – if anyone could handle it, it would be Iris – but he wanted to keep that part of him away from her, because most of the time, it was easier to keep going and try to pretend it never happened.

He was Barry Allen, the Flash. He saved people. He had a family that he loved and that loved him back, despite everything. He had friends he enjoyed spending time with. He had a mentor who was helping him learn to use his new power. His dad was in Iron Heights, but he could see him and talk to him if not touch him. Joe was even looking into his mom's killer to try and get his dad out.

So, yeah, most of the time it was good, except for when it wasn't.

Sometimes he got stuck in it and part of him knew it wasn't real, but that was dwarfed by the part of him that was afraid to even open his eyes, afraid he'd be back there and everything else wouldn't be real. When that happened, Joe couldn't help him. There had been times, between the sleep deprivation and total isolation, that he'd heard things that weren't there, or he thought he heard them. His mom, dad, Iris, Joe. They all talked to him in his head in the room. So, when he got stuck there, Joe couldn't pull him back and they didn't let Iris try. He'd heard a few of the not-so-quiet arguments between her and Joe about that, but they couldn't risk that he'd give away. When asked, he'd been honest with her and said she'd only make it worse, even when it clearly hurt her to hear that. Unfortunately, they also couldn't just leave him alone in case he ran, because there was no telling where he'd go or how far or who would see him.

Sometimes, he had dreams so vivid they felt real. He dreamed about the first time he broke his arm. He dreamed about crouching in front of that stupid seamless door that wasn't there, the one that hadn't opened since he'd been put in the room days or weeks ago, he couldn't tell. A few times, a small square nearly at the bottom had pulled up just wide enough to let food in, so Barry waited there.

He waited and waited, fell asleep more then once, but didn't move, because that was his only connection to the outside world and when the door finally did opened, he saw the bowl and more metal walls behind that, punctuated by small metal circles like braille – nothing to tell him where he was. Then the bowl was shoved in and Barry reached out to grab at whoever was there, only to have his own arm gripped and twisted, hard. He'd screamed at the sharp pain and his arm was pushed back hard enough to slide him half across the room while the door closed.

One dream blurred into another and the man in yellow was standing over him. He opened his mouth to scream maybe, or beg, but one of those blurred hands pressed down over his mouth while the other took his right arm just above his wrist, pinning it down into the soft bedding and in the next second the pain turned blinding, his vision whiting out as the vibrations hardened, shaking and jarring the bones until they cracked and broke under the grip.

He closed his eyes against the memory and the pain and when he opened them again, the man was gone and Barry was alone in his room. He scrambled onto the floor to press himself between the wall and the bed, dropping his head to his knees with his arm clutched tightly against his chest.

That was new. It had never felt that _real_. He couldn't shake the pain in his arm, the feel of fingers imprinted onto his forearm.

"Barry, son, look at me." A hand touched him shoulder and he flinched back. It withdrew immediately. "Barry, can you hear me?"

That was Joe's voice. The walls of the room were closing in on him and he pressed himself back against them. No, he wasn't in the room, or was he? He could be. "Not real. You're not real."

It was never real, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

"Barr, please, can you…" He pressed his hands over his ears, or tried to, because the right one lit up in pain and he whimpered, clutching it back to his chest instead. "Okay, I'll stop just, don't run. Barry, do not run."

Like there was anywhere he could run to. No, no there was. He could run. He could run, but he couldn't.

The fire in his arm gradually died down. This wasn't real. It wasn't, but it felt real. The panic tight in his chest, making it hard to breathe was real.

"Hey, man, you don't look so good."

Hesitantly, he opened his eyes and saw Cisco sitting a few feet away. It had been Caitlin's idea, after a particularly bad episode when Barry reluctantly told her about the auditory hallucinations he'd had in the room. Cisco had come into his life after the fact and it was easier to separate the past and the present when they didn't blur together. In theory, Caitlin or Dr. Wells would work, too, but Dr. Wells couldn't make it up the stairs without assistance and Caitlin was clearly uncomfortable with it. Besides, Caitlin reasoned that Barry'd had a connection with Cisco ever since he'd first woken from his coma.

Barry wasn't sure whether he had a connection with Cisco and, if he did, what that connection was, but it worked. After a few minutes of sitting there in silence, the panic eased.

Cisco held out his hand where a rainbow array of Tootsie Roll Pops was clenched in his fist and raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Barry eyed the candy. In and of itself, it wasn't as much of a pull as it had been the first few times, when he hadn't even seen sugar in ten years. Now, it was more the gesture that drew him in – the offer of understanding and even friendship. He took it and Cisco smiled, rolling his own sucker in his mouth.

He played with the stick end in his fingers for a few minutes before unwrapping it. Despite years of deprivation, or maybe because of them, Barry had found he didn't really like candy all that much. On a normal day, he preferred small amounts of dark, bitter chocolate to Cisco's too sweet fruit flavors, but other times, the jarring sweetness reminded him of where he was and, more importantly, who he was with.

By the time the panic had receded enough for him to lower his legs and relax against the wall, he was half done with it and Cisco was unwrapping a second one.

A few more minutes passed before Cisco finally spoke. "You wanna tell me about it?"

He shook his head and Cisco waited, because want to or not, he was still going to. Caitlin and his psychiatrist both said it was therapeutic to talk about it. He wasn't sure if they were right, but he trusted Caitlin.

"My arm. The first time he broke it. There was a smaller door that he'd use to put food in through. It wasn't big enough to crawl out of or anything, but early on I got desperate enough to try and grab him when he opened it. He twisted my arm and it broke."

Cisco tucked the sucker into the side of him mouth. "Did you see anything?"

"There wasn't anything to see, really – just more grey walls. So, yeah, then I woke up, only I wasn't really awake, it was just another dream and he broke my arm again, except this time it really hurts." He held it out, clenched his fingers experimentally. They tightened, but there was still a shock of pain up his arm when they did.

"Can I see?"

Barry forced a weak smile. "I'm okay now."

"Man, that is so not true." This time the smile was real as he held the arm out for Cisco to see. The warm fingers hurt where they pressed into his forearm, but they also felt… nice. They were gentle and concerned and careful and Barry found himself a little disappointed when they pulled away. "Caitlin should take a look. I think you may have actually broken it."

"How?"

"Hit the wall maybe? You'll be all right if I send her in and go get some coffee?"

"Yeah." He glanced at the clock beside his bed and he cringed. It was three in the morning. "Hey, Cisco? Thanks."

Cisco responded with a wink, "We're cool."

He nodded for Caitlin, who was standing outside with Joe and then motioned for the detective to follow him down the stairs.

When they were carefully closed into the kitchen, the smell of strong coffee filling the air like a welcome mat, Cisco rounded on Joe, who was busy getting mugs from the cabinet.

"Did something happen?" Joe turned abruptly. "Oh, it did, didn't it? Was he here? The man in yellow, did you see him?"

Joe set the mugs down. His hands weren't necessarily shaking, but they weren't steady, either. "How about you back up and tell me what makes you think something happened?"

Cisco pushed his hair back. "His arm, it looks like it was broken for real, there's bruising all up and down the forearm, like fingers. His body's repairing the damage, but it's been over an hour and it clearly still hurts. I don't think he could have done that to himself."

Joe rubbed a hand over his face and nodded. "Yeah, he was here."

"Oh, man. Are you for real?"

"I've been looking into Nora's death, trying to find a way to prove Barry's dad didn't do it. He came in, took the file and left me a very clear message. Stop or he'll kill Iris."

Cisco stared, open mouthed. "He must have gone upstairs before he left."

"Before who left?" They turned, both relieved to see Caitlin.

Cisco ushered her in and made sure Barry wasn't standing in the living room before he closed the door. "The man in yellow was here."

"What?!"

"Sh!"

Joe stepped in and took over, telling Caitlin what they suspected.

"Well, that explains the arm, but what would be the point?"

Joe shook his head sadly. "Maybe he wanted to remind Barry that he could still get to him."

Cisco rocked on his heals. "Well, then it didn't work, right? I mean, Barry thinks it was a dream."

Caitlin looked uncertain, "I don't know. That was bad, he's still shaken."

"I'm not." They all three jumped, turning abruptly. Caitlin dropped her tablet, but Barry caught it before it hit the floor, setting it safely on the table. "Sorry."

He looked from her startled expression, to Cisco's eyes wondering everywhere around the room but him, and Joe watching him a little too closely.

"Okay, fine, I'm a little shaken, but it's not the first panic attack I've had. It's not even the worst. I'll get over it."

At his words, Caitlin immediately went into concerned doctor mode and he let her check his pupil dilation and take his pulse while pushing him back into one of the chairs. "I told you to stay upstairs. You shouldn't be moving around so much."

"I figured if you were going to talk about me, I should at least be here for it." She flushed guiltily and he backtracked. He really hadn't meant it to come out that way. "Sorry, I didn't…"

Joe gripped his shoulder. "No, you're right. We're just worried."

Caitlin pointed her pen light at him. "PTSD is very serious. You can't take these things lightly."

"What about the man in yellow being here? How should I take that?" He looked down, rather than meet their eyes. "Joe moved a picture downstairs. I saw what he wrote on the wall."

Before anyone could say anything, he continued. "Don't worry, I really am okay. Scared, really, really scared, terrified actually, but… it felt so real this time, I was afraid I was finally losing it. At least if he was here I know it wasn't all in my head."

Cisco opened the freezer, pulled out a half gallon of ice cream and a spoon, then leaned against the counter and dug it. When Caitlin gave him a reproachful stare, he shrugged. "What? I stress eat."

Joe sat down at the table. "So, what do we do?"

"Don't look at me. I just make toys." Cisco dug the spoon into the bin, pulled out a mound of strawberry, and shoved it in his mouth.

Caitlin went through her purse for her phone. "Well, for now, there isn't much we can do. I need to take Barry to S.T.A.R. Labs to set his arm properly. Tomorrow we'll talk to Dr. Wells and figure something out. Barry, maybe you should stay somewhere else for a few days?"

"Where?"

There weren't exactly a lot of options. He could go to S.T.A.R. Labs, but if he had an episode, he couldn't be sure what he'd do if he woke up in a panic alone. He couldn't just crash at anyone's place, though, it had to be someone that knew what he was, what he could do. Someone he trusted.

Then he realized Caitlin and Joe were both looking at the other side of the kitchen where Cisco was still standing by the fridge, oblivious.

Cisco stopped with the spoon half in his mouth and looked around. "I said don't look at me. Why is everyone looking at me?"

Which was how Barry ended up living in Cisco's one bedroom apartment a block from S.T.A.R. Labs, but more on that later.


	4. The Boys in the Hoods

**Summary:** Barry's trying to move forward, Cisco is an awesome roommate, but a less then ideal neighbor, Oliver is horrible at keeping secrets, Felicity is… Felicity, and Iris doesn't give up.

* * *

 **The Boys in the Hoods**

Barry stared. "Is that…?"

"A giant, double-headed, purple dildo."

"But… what do I do with it?"

Cisco took a gulp of his orange soda and set it on the coffee table. "Later you're gonna give it to your girlfriend, but until then, you can use it to make mad cash killing hookers and pimps, just don't let the cops see you."

Barry worked that through for a second before he said, "This game is really messed up."

"It gets even better. Here, give me the controller. I'll get a rocket launcher and get the police on us. If we get enough stars they send out the military. It's dope."

Someone knocked on the door as Barry handed over the controller, bemused. "Did you order pizza?"

"No, it's probably the neighbors again."

Barry shrugged as he got up and went to the door. Despite, the generally disarray the apartment was likely to be in on any given day, Cisco lived in a nice building. He was on the third floor of a five story complex with keycard access and a front desk. It had been at Dr. Wells' insistence. After the particle accelerator exploded, there had been more then a few people looking to take it out on anyone associated with S.T.A.R. Labs, so security was important.

The downside to living at the Park On Main Street, was that his neighbors consisted mostly of business men and women and one little old lady, all of whom valued peace and quiet. Cisco valued delivery food, video games, Netlix, and his surround sound at all hours of the day and night. Barry wasn't exactly complaining, even if the neighbors were.

"Hey, sorry, we'll turn it… Iris?"

He'd expected Ms. Farrow. After only two weeks there, he was pretty sure Cisco's neighbors had the noise complaints on rotation. Tonight should have been Ms. Farrow and her insistence that her dogs were very sensitive and needed their rest. She usually also took a few minutes to cluck her tongue at Cisco's five hundred square feet of chaos. Barry had offered to clean it up, pointing out that he could have it done in literally seconds and he honestly didn't mind, but Cisco not-so-secretly liked scandalizing the old lady.

However, it wasn't Ms. Farrow standing at the door, it was Iris and she wasn't alone. Next to her was a woman with glasses, blond hair pulled into a tight pony tail, and a red pencil-skirt dress. Behind that woman was… it couldn't be.

"Cisco!"

"Hold on!" Something exploded over the surround sound behind him. "I'm four stars up, dude, one more and they send in the tanks."

Barry laughed nervously and Iris held her hand out to her side. "Barry, this is Felicity Smoak and this is her boss and good friend, Oliver Queen, formerly of Queen Consolidated in Starling City."

Oh, good god, it was. He'd read about him online and in magazines before he'd been taken. Oliver Queen was set to inherit his father's company if he ever got his head in the game. He was a playboy and a womanizer, but he'd been young. This didn't look like the Oliver Queen he'd seen wasted on the front of tabloid covers.

"Cisco, I really think you should come over here."

"Almost there, man, just gimme..."

"Cisco, Oliver Queen is at your door."

Cisco was there so fast, Barry was half convinced some of his speed must have rubbed off on him. "Holy…"

Barry elbowed him in the side. "Iris, what are… what are they doing here?"

"Can we come in?"

Cisco mumbled something under his breath and Barry may not have been able to hear it, but he had a sneaking suspicion he was going to be allowed to clean later. With a smile that was closer to a grimace, Cisco stepped aside.

It wasn't that bad, really, Cisco's neighbors scandalized easy. He had an old sofa he'd bought off Craigslist, an unfinished coffee table from Ikea, covered in marker scuffs and spots of sticky soda. There was a basket of clean clothes on the bar top, while the dirty clothes were strewn around the floor, but piled most notably by the u-shaped desk that took up the entire dining nook and was covered in computer equipment and tools more expensive then everything else in the apartment combined, rent included. Empty pizza boxes were stacked four deep by the front door, next to the sofa was a growing tower of college brochures that Joe kept dropping off for Barry to consider – Cisco had started using a pencil to mark off the height on the wall every few days, saying he was tracking the growing aggression of the paternal male – and the carpet hadn't been vacuumed since… well, probably since he'd moved in a year ago.

Iris motioned for Felicity and Oliver to follow her. Iris didn't bat an eyelash at the mess, mostly because her own bedroom was worse, Felicity appeared nonplussed, and Oliver raised an eyebrow, with a quirk of a smile, but otherwise appeared unfazed. When the door was closed, Iris took Barry's hands in hers and looked him in the eyes, usually a sign that she was about to do something she didn't think he'd approve of and she was buttering him up. Either that or it was his birthday and there was a cake hidden somewhere. It wasn't his birthday.

"Barry, I'd like you to meet Oliver Queen."

"You said that."

"Yeah." She bit her lower lip and tipped her head to the side. Definitely buttering him up. "I met Oliver just before you… went into a coma. I was writing an article for my journalism class and I was persistent enough to get an interview with Felicity."

Felicity cut in, "She means nosey."

Barry laughed, but Iris waved her off. "Nosey, persistent, I got an A on that. Anyway, Felicity introduced me to Oliver, who kind of, sort of, has something in common with you."

He glanced at Oliver, who was distinctly uncomfortable. "I don't understand."

"Oliver went missing, too."

Oliver nodded. "There was an accident on my family yacht. I was marooned on an island for five years."

Barry pulled back from Iris. "Iris, no. That isn't…" Then he turned Oliver, who looked even more uncomfortable then he had a moment ago. "I am really sorry she dragged you all the way out here, but I'm not…"

Iris grabbed at his hands again and when he pulled away this time, she changed tactics. "You won't talk to me, Dad says you aren't talking to him, and don't tell me you're actually telling that psychiatrist you see anything, because I know you better then that, Barry Allen."

He flinched at her accusing tone.

"I get that it's hard, okay? But you have to talk to someone. Maybe Oliver didn't go through the same thing you did, but he does know at least some of what it's like. He was marooned on an island, tortured…"

"Tortured?"

Oliver nodded again, "I wasn't always alone. They weren't nice people."

"Oh."

Iris took the moment and grabbed Felicity by the arm and he noticed for the first time that she was dressed similarly in a tight, deep purple dress and high-heel black boots. She looked good, grown up. "We are going to go out and get drinks. You two are going to talk. Come on, Cisco."

Cisco, who had spent the conversation backing away from the group, attempting to seek shelter in his kitchen, stopped and held up his hands up. "Oh, no, I'm not going anywhere."

"But…"

"No, really, I _can't_." He nodded to Barry, who gave his whole-hearted agreement.

She sighed, "Fine, Felicity, we're going."

Felicity stopped short of the door. "Wait, is that what I think it is?"

All eyes followed her gaze to Cisco and then behind him to his computer.

She started forward, only to have Iris pull her away. "Later. You and Cisco can geek out later, _after_ Oliver and Barry talk."

Before anyone could raise any further arguments, she dragged Felicity out the door with her.

Left alone, the silence was as awkward as it was stifling. The only sound was the steady thump of music from GTA that came through the surround sound. For nearly five minutes, no one moved, until Oliver finally said, "This is awkward."

Barry ducked his head with a cringe. "Yeah."

"I apologize. I told Iris this was a bad idea, but she can be…"

"Persistent?"

"Yes."

Cisco watched Barry closely. They'd caught another meta recently and Barry was more prone to episodes after he'd had the shit beat out of him by anything, worse when it was something meta. If Iris had bothered calling before springing her little trap, Cisco could have told her that particular night was not a good idea, but to be fair to Iris, Cisco probably would have said that, regardless. Being the one responsible for bringing Barry down when he got worked up, Cisco really tried not to put Barry in any situations that were going to set him off.

Like now. Oliver and Barry were standing less than two feet from each other. They were about the same height, but Oliver had broader shoulders and even under his dark jacket and slacks, it was clear he had the advantage in the muscle department. The way the older man held himself was confident – back straight, head up, feet firmly planted and slightly apart. Barry stood slightly hunched, one hand crossed over to rub nervously along the other arm, his feet shifting every so often, like he wanted to back away or run.

Thankfully, Oliver looked Barry over and whatever he read there was enough for him to take several steps back. Barry visibly relaxed. Then Oliver ruined it by opening his mouth. "So, Iris tells me you were missing for ten years?"

"Yeah, it's… not something I like to talk about."

"I don't talk a lot about my time on the island, either."

They stood silently again. Barry getting minutely tenser with every passing second until Cisco couldn't stand it anymore and interjected. "So, you know Iris?"

"Yes." Oliver turned his attention around and Barry relaxed a fraction. "She's apparently been tracking anything and everything unusual since Barry's disappearance."

He turned back to Barry, who shrugged, doing his best to be casual. "She's been my best friend since we were kids. I guess… I mean, I knew she looked. I didn't realize she'd gone all the way to Starling City."

"She went further then that, from what I understand."

Cisco realized he was being edged out of the conversation and decided to back off, see where it was going. Most of Barry's panic attacks came after nightmares. So, while this was probably going to suck later, it shouldn't be too bad while Oliver was there.

Barry ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, this is… I don't… How did she rope you into this, anyway?"

Oliver gave a terse smile. "Her and Felicity have become friends and Felicity knows just enough of my deepest darkest secrets to get me to do anything she wants. Usually, she uses her powers for the greater good."

Barry laughed, but it was strained. "What are you supposed to do?"

"Well, that, at least, is simple. I am supposed to show you what happened to me on the island and Iris thinks that will somehow make it easier for you to talk to me."

"Show me?"

Oliver opened his mouth, hesitated and instead shrugged off his jacket, tossing it onto the side of the sofa before pulling his shirt over his head. Cisco did a double take and crossed his arms over his own chest self-consciously. Oliver Queen was ripped. Seriously ripped. His back was a tight line of muscle and his shoulders did that thing where even when they were relaxed they popped out. He turned his back to Barry and, seriously, even his abs had abs.

Scattered over his body, however, were a multitude of dark scars and Cisco could see Barry's eyes going over them, his face paling as he took in each one. When they'd first brought Barry to S.T.A.R. Labs, his body was still in the process of healing the damage. It had been extensive, inside and out and had taken months before everything had smoothed over. He'd helped Caitlin catalogue everything as it healed, which included where she thought certain injuries came from. Burns from heat and electric shock, whips, belt buckles, knives, glass – it had been a map work of torture that had slowly been erased. Oliver's map was still there and Cisco couldn't stop his mind from mentally noting certain wounds for what they were or… weren't. Where the hell had he gotten the one with the little circles in it?

He got caught up enough in it that he didn't notice Barry's eye glaze over until it was too late. Oliver had turned to face Barry again and froze. "Are you okay?"

Cisco saw impending disaster a full half second too late. Oliver moved to touch Barry's shoulder and Barry threw himself back into the wall at lightning speed, away from Oliver's hand. There hadn't been far for him to go. Cisco probably could have convinced Oliver that he'd just blinked at the wrong time or something, but when Barry's back hit the wall, he launched off it and streaked across the room in a blur, past Cisco and into the bedroom. The door slammed hard behind him, cracking the frame.

For several seconds no one moved. Cisco stared at Oliver, trying to think of something to say to cover up what he'd just seen and Oliver stared at Cisco, his mouth opening and closing several times before anything actually came out. "What the hell was that?"

Cisco cursed and turned to the door, trying to open it. The knob turned, but the door didn't budge. He had to make sure Barry was still in the room. He'd deal with Oliver later.

"Cisco…"

"Unless you plan to help, you need to back off."

Oliver shouldered him out of the way and tried to push the door. When he was unsuccessful, he stepped back and kicked it open with a resounding bang. They were going to get so many noise complaints tonight.

"Barry!" Cisco threw himself over the unmade bed, scrambling to the other side, but Barry wasn't squished between the mattress and the wall. He turned around the small room in a circle, looking along the corner stacked with boxes of comics, until his eyes landed on the open closet door. It was a walk in, but not by much and Barry was in the back corner in his customary protective curl, head down, mumbling apologies into his knees. That was good. It wasn't a full blown panic attack if he was cognizant enough to apologize.

Cisco heard Oliver moving around the room behind him, but kept his focus on Barry. "Hey, man, come on, look at me, just for a second, okay? It doesn't matter. Barry, it doesn't matter."

After a minute, Barry looked up, eyes flinching and mouth set grim. "He saw, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but it's okay."

"I didn't mean to. The scars were… and when he touched me, I just…"

"It's fine."

"Joe'll hate me if Iris finds out."

"No, Barry, he won't."

Oliver stepped into the doorway, crouching down behind Cisco. "You want to explain this or should I start guessing?"

Cisco considered the options. "I don't suppose you'd believe I spiked your drink with LSD?"

"I didn't drink anything."

Cisco gave up with a sigh. "You know those rumors about a red streak whipping through Central City, saving people from burning buildings and stopping crime? That's Barry. He's the Flash."

"How?"

"It's a long story."

"I got struck by lightning charged with the energy from the blown particle accelerator, went into a coma for nine months, and woke up able to clock three hundred miles an hour on a slow day."

Cisco shrugged. "Apparently, not that long."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "And Iris doesn't know." It wasn't a question, but before Cisco or Barry could jump to defend it, Oliver held up a hand. "I'm not exactly winning any medals for honesty myself. The real question is, why?"

Barry started to answer, but Cisco waved him off. He was coming off it quickly, but his hands were still shaking, nearly to the point of vibrating. "You, breathe, like we practiced. I've got this."

Reluctantly, Barry nodded and put his head down, breathing in slowly and out slower, tensing and un-tensing muscle groups as he did.

Cisco waited to make sure it was working, before he turned back to Oliver. "The man that took Barry is like him. There are others, too, meta-humans that can do other things. Barry and Joe, her dad, they don't want Iris to get hurt."

Oliver's mouth stretched into a bemused smile. "I am going to give you some advice that was given to me. She's already in the middle of it, even if she doesn't know. Iris is smart and she isn't going to let this go. She'll keep digging until she finds something and you'll wish you were the one to tell her."

Cisco rolled his eyes. "What would you know about it?"

"I know she and Felicity talked me into coming here to try and get something out of you that would help her find the man who hurt you, so I could bring him to justice."

Barry looked up sharply with a frown. "Why?"

"Because that's what I do. I'm the Arrow."

Barry stopped his breathing, stopped everything. Cisco was right there with him, his heart racing fast in the chest.

"I see you've heard of me."

"Who hasn't?" Cisco wasn't even a little embarrassed by the awe in his own voice. Oliver Queen was the Arrow, the vigilante of Starling City. Of course, now that he knew, it was _so_ obvious, but he'd been a little busy lately. "Can I get a picture with you? Oh, do you have the hood? Tell me you have your hood."

The look Oliver gave Cisco said he wasn't getting anywhere near the hood and Barry managed a weak laugh. "Could, um… This is really embarrassing. I just need a minute to pull myself together."

Oliver went back to wait in the living room without a word and Cisco hesitated. "Want me to leave, too?"

"No. I mean, unless you want to go geek out over the Arrow. I'd understand."

"Eh, I can geek out from here."

"Thanks."

* * *

Before the girls came back, Cisco agreed to let Barry clean the apartment under the guise of showing off his speed for Oliver. Oliver tried to say it wasn't necessary, but Barry begged Oliver not to ruin this for him.

Felicity and Iris stumbled in a few hours later, a little tipsy and a lot giggly. Felicity immediately broke off and dragged Cisco over to his computer, with its bank of monitors and multiple processors. She stroked it for nearly an hour, going over everything Cisco had built, making suggestions for improvements. Barry watched the two of them gush, only half listening to Iris tell Oliver about her blog, until she caught him yawning.

"Looks like someone needs his beauty sleep."

Barry rolled his eyes, stretching. "Very funny."

Oliver had to pull Felicity out, while she promised to show Cisco all her toys later. To Cisco's raised eyebrows, she backtracked with, "Not toys, as in sexy time toys, you wouldn't want to see those toys. Not that they aren't worth seeing, because I have some pretty impressive… toys. I was talking about computers."

Oliver's smile was strained, but amused. "Thank you, Cisco, for your hospitality. Barry, I'll be in touch."

Iris lagged back long enough to hug Barry and whisper, "Thank you," before following them out the door.

The apartment was instantly too quiet. Cisco stood on one side next to his computers. Barry was by the front door, calmer now, but with everyone gone, the night was obviously catching up with him. He looked a little pale, a lot tired.

"Do you need to eat something? There's leftovers in the…"

"I know."

The clock said it was after midnight. Dr. Wells would expect them in the lab in the morning. "I'm gonna take a shower and get some sleep. You good?"

Despite Barry's nod, Cisco hesitated. In the end, though, Barry looked like he needed the space and it wasn't like he didn't know where to find Cisco if he needed anything.

Oliver and Barry had talked. A lot. In a way, Cisco couldn't help being a little jealous, because until that moment, he'd been the only one Barry talked to. Then Oliver comes with his scars and his abs and his biceps and they have things in common. Sure, it was things like captivity and torture and saving people and a greater purpose and how hard it was to reconcile all of that, but it was still more then Barry had in common with Cisco. The only things Cisco and Barry really had in common were S.T.A.R. Labs and a favorite pizza joint.

Cisco stepped out of the shower and pulled his pants on, dropping the towel on the floor as he went to his bed.

He shouldn't let it get to him. Barry needed someone who understood, someone who could ask him all the right, insightful questions like what he intended to do when he found the man who hurt him and what he wanted to do after that, because he couldn't hide from the world forever.

Cisco had wanted to call bullshit on that. Barry could hide for as long his damn well pleased and Cisco was perfectly willing to enable it, but Oliver was right. Of course Oliver was right. Oliver was the Arrow. Actually, that was still pretty cool, jealousy aside. He turned off the light and laid down, trying not to think about how familiar Barry and Oliver had been after only a few hours.

"Cisco?"

Barry was standing in the open door, still dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, head down. Cisco sat up, immediately concerned. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry about your door."

He shrugged, "No problem, man, you know that."

Barry nodded and started to turn away, then stopped and looked up shyly. "Can I lay down in here for a while? I don't really feel like being alone."

Cisco blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Barry normally didn't go anywhere near Cisco's room unless he was looking for a place to hide and he sure as hell didn't ask to sit on the bed. Not that it meant anything. Of course it didn't mean anything, just that Barry didn't want to be alone and, actually, now that he thought about it, trusting Cisco enough to get in a bed with him was kind of a big deal.

Barry backed up a step. "Never mind."

"No! Sorry, of course you can." Barry paused briefly, before sitting down and then laying on his side, facing Cisco with a serious crease in his brow.

Cisco knew that crease. "You want to talk about it?"

"I'm afraid Oliver's right – that I can't be the person I used to be, that I should stop trying. I'm afraid that somewhere in those ten years, I lost myself and I don't know how to get me back."

Cisco smiled. "I don't think you're doing such a bad job. Neither does Iris, by the way. Apparently, you can still be a stubborn ass when you really want something."

Barry laughed half-heartedly. "So can she."

The light in the kitchen that never turned off filtered in, illuminating the room softly. "So, what did you want to do when you were sixteen?"

"Forensics."

"Really? Why?"

"When my mom died, all I wanted was to find out who killed her and prove my dad didn't do it. I figured forensics was the key."

Cisco tucked his hands under his pillow. "You could still do that, you know. I mean, you aced the GED and Joe's been 'hinting' about you taking classes next year."

"You mean the college brochures he's been dropping off almost daily?"

Cisco gasped, "He's been dropping off college brochures?!"

That got an outright laugh and it was nice to hear after everything that had happened that night. "Thank you. I'll go back to the couch in a while."

If Barry fell asleep in the bed next to him a few minutes later, Cisco wasn't complaining. He also totally didn't brush Barry's hair back from his forehead or stare at him longingly before going to sleep himself, because Cisco was a geek and he believed in the impossible, but only to a point.

* * *

Iris managed to hold off until they were in the car, doors safely shut, before staring Oliver down. "Did he say anything?"

From the tight pinch of Oliver's mouth, she already had her answer, but he didn't bother denying it. "He did."

"And?"

"I said I would help him and I will."

When he didn't elaborate, she glared at him through the rear view mirror. "You said you would help _me_ to help him. How am I supposed to do that, if you won't tell me anything?"

"It's become…," he glanced over at Felicity and that was so not fair, because that meant he had every intention of telling her later, "complicated."

She leaned over the seat, putting herself as uncomfortable close as she dared. "Complicated how?"

He paused deliberately, then moved closer to the passenger door and turned fully to look at her. She saw it in his face that he was giving in even before he said anything. If there was one thing she liked about Oliver Queen, it was that he was an open book when you knew how to read.

"The blog you've been writing, about the Streak? I looked into that when you started it and there have been other occurrences of people doing other things. Strange weather patterns, impossible robberies, things that can't be explained."

"I know. Felicity filled me in."

He turned again to Felicity who had suddenly found something really interesting outside the driver's side window.

"It would seem that the man who took Barry is one of those people. I won't put you at risk by letting you get involved in…"

"The man in the yellow lightning."

Oliver blinked back his surprise. "What?"

"The man in the yellow lightning. Those were Barry's words. He said his mom was killed by the man in the yellow lightning." Oliver opened his mouth to tell her to let it go, but she plowed forward. "No, it makes perfect sense now. All of this… weird super human stuff started happening like five months ago. Until then, the only time I ever heard anything like it was Barry's story about the man in the yellow lightning. I always kind of suspected, but couldn't be sure… but if you're saying someone like that kidnapped Barry ten years ago, it had to be him. He was the only one, or, at least, the only one with a connection to Barry."

Oliver's perfectly blank expression told her everything she needed to know.

"Thanks, I can walk from here."

Iris was out of the car before Oliver could get out any words of caution, not that she would have listened.

Felicity tapped her finger nails on the steering wheel a few times before saying, "You are horrible at keeping secrets."

"I'm not."

She held out her hand and pulled back the lapel of his jacket. "You left your com link on." He closed his eyes in resignation. "So, can he really move that fast? How fast is fast, because that sounded _fast_? Like when you ride your motorcycle through a tunnel, only faster and with less engine noise."

"You're not helping."

Despite his serious tone, she didn't look all that concerned. "Should we just go back in and tell Barry now about how you messed this up or wait until morning?"

"He has more important things to worry about and you are going to talk to her and get her to drop this."

"Yeah, I'll talk to her, but she's not gonna drop it."

Oliver's frown deepened.

* * *

The Arrow was Oliver Queen. Now that was interesting. In his time, there had been a clear and obvious connection between him and the Flash. Eobard never been able to determine the origin of it, but by ensuring Barry never made it to Starling City in the first place he had hoped to abort any possible team up. Apparently, destiny had a will of its own. With the addition of the vigilante, of course, would come the others – the Black Canary and the Atom to name only two. Never mind, he could work with it and knowing who the Arrow was could prove useful.

Of course, more interesting then that was what happened after.

Eobard often liked to watch Barry sleep, because it showed the true measure of his recovery. Awake, the boy could reason with himself. He could shut down the reflexive flinch that came with physical contact or the natural instinct to make himself the smallest target possible, protecting what little of himself he could. Asleep, there was no such recourse.

The first few days after waking from his coma, he had been in a constant battle with himself. Torn between wanting to trust everyone and unable to fully trust anything. It couldn't help that Eobard was fairly certain there was enough sense memory from the last ten years that Barry instinctively had trouble relaxing around the good Dr. Wells. Even now, months later, if he caught the boy off guard there was a momentary build of panic. He tried not to do it too often – wouldn't want to give anyone cause to question him – but it amused him some.

After those first days, though, the change had been quick. Barry had thrown himself into being the Flash and it had created something of a fissure in his psyche, not unlike dissociative identity disorder, though perhaps not quite so dramatic. Barry simply couldn't exist in the world as a functioning person with the memories of everything that had been done to him, so he didn't. He buried those memories until something happened to bring them to the surface again and then he had to begin the burial process all over. It was fascinating, at least, intellectually.

It was also problematic, because Eobard wasn't certain which switch would be flipped when it came time for him to reveal himself. Worse, he wasn't sure which side of the boy would better serve his purpose. Just as the boy's decline in the room had been a slow, steady deterioration, he'd been counting on a slow, steady progress of recovery. Instead, he was currently faced with two options. The stubborn, head strong Flash or the broken boy. Neither was ideal.

So, while he pondered what to do about that, he watched.

It was surprising enough for Barry to seek comfort in Cisco's bed, even if only to lie down and talk, more surprising still that he was relaxed enough to fall asleep next to him. He was mildly curious when Cisco reached out to touch Barry's face in his sleep, but it wasn't entirely unexpected.

He'd noticed Cisco's attraction some time ago. It was the kind that could go either way – a close, familial friendship or something more. Barry was an attractive young man, but Cisco would never press for more from him, not with Barry's past hanging between them. Although, Eobard wondered; if he hadn't intervened and if Barry hadn't leaned so heavily on the other young man for support, if that would have made a difference in the development of their friendship.

What did catch him off-guard was Barry. Perhaps because the by-line had yet to change, regardless of how damaged Barry was, or how little romantic interest he showed in anyone, let alone his childhood crush, it still read Iris West-Allen. No matter what Eobard did to the boy, it seemed he was going to recover at least that much, or perhaps it was more a testament to young Ms. West. Either way, he hadn't been looking for what was now right in front of him.

Every night since Barry had woken from the coma, Eobard had watched. Every night, Barry curled in on himself, knees up, arms protectively wrapped around himself. If anyone attempted to touch him, he pulled away or lashed out, always waking with a start that could and, often did, lead to a panic attack.

However, that night, Cisco brushed his fingers against Barry's forehead and Barry didn't pull away, he rolled into it. The tension he usually carried into his dreams eased, he rolled over onto his stomach and sighed into the pillow under his head and as Eobard watched and Cisco fell asleep as well, Barry moved a hand out to brush against the other boy's arm and left it there and that? That was interesting.

That could be useful.


	5. Under the Surface (1)

**Summary:** Hartley is a dick. He's a pompous jerk and a smug know-it-all, but he doesn't outright lie, which makes it really hard to ignore him when he suggests Cisco take a closer look at his scan of S.T.A.R. Labs.

* * *

 **Under the Surface (1/3)**

If Barry had been mildly impressed walking up to the house, he'd been floored when the automatic doors opened. The entry way alone was wide and spacious, with tall ceiling and tastefully decorated. What lay beyond was no less remarkable. Harrison Wells sat in his wheel chair on the other side, waiting to greet them. Despite his smile, Barry couldn't help but notice how clearly uncomfortably Dr. Wells was when he saw Barry.

"Barry, I didn't expect to see you here."

Barry looked around as he stepped in, trying not to be too obvious as he gawked and knowing he was failing. "Yeah, um, I was at the station with Joe when the call came in. Thompson was showing me his lab."

"Yes, the assistant lab tech for the CCPD." Dr. Wells hadn't bothered to hide his disdain for Barry's desire to join the police and he had further made it abundantly clear how he felt about Barry's plan to spend the day at the station, getting to know the environment, the people, and meeting the lab tech who had found him the night of the explosion.

Dr. Wells' lack of enthusiasm was a disappointment, but Barry was determined. It wasn't going to be easy. He'd have to get through school, of course, and pass all the normal psych evaluations, which meant more therapy, probably being a little more honest with his psychiatrist, but if Barry wanted this and he did, he had to be willing to put in the effort.

"Right, well, Joe said if you were okay with it, I could shadow Thompson? If it makes you uncomfortable, though…"

"No, no, of course, Barry, feel free." Dr. Wells sighed and turned in his chair, shaking his head. "Look, Joe, I apologize for all this. It really just feels like a case of so much for so little. The police should not have been called. I got a prank call before all this happened."

"This feels like more then just a prank, Doctor."

"Well, there are those who feel I did not suffer enough for the Particle Accelerator explosion last year and some of them act on it."

Barry trailed a few steps behind, taking in the scene. He wasn't sure what he would have expected Dr. Wells' home to look like. He didn't see him much outside of S.T.A.R. Labs, but if he'd taken the time to consider it, he wouldn't have imagined anything quite like this. It made sense in a way, the open floor plan allowed for wheel chair access, but after getting to know the man, Barry had found him to be a warm person and that certainly wasn't reflected here. Although, Dr. Wells was a scientist, specializing in cutting edge technology, so perhaps it shouldn't come as that much of a surprise.

He moved his focus around the room to the large fire, giving off warmth that was immediately being sucked out through the broken ceiling, the cool tiled floors, the sleek, clean line furniture, the glass walls surrounding the dining room in what appeared to be the center of the house, etched with scenery.

It was beautiful in a modern, sterile way that was completely at odds with the man he knew.

His thoughts were interrupted by the familiar click of heels on tile that was immediately followed by Caitlin's voice, filled with concern. "Dr. Wells? Dr. Wells, are you okay?"

Dr. Wells' mouth tightened further and it was possibly the closest Barry had ever seen the man to embarrassed. "Dr. Snow, I'm… I'm fine. A little chilly, but otherwise I'm fine. Hello, Cisco. Make yourselves at home as best you can. I'm going to make a hotel reservation."

He wheeled off and Cisco moved in, not bothering to hide the enthusiasm in his tone. "Yo, this place is so sick."

Barry was right there with him. "Yeah. Hey, what took you guys so long?"

"We," Cisco looked at Caitlin pointedly, making it very clear who 'we' was, "got lost."

She shrugged. "We've never been here before."

"Really, never?" He was a little surprised by that. He'd only met Dr. Wells a few months ago, but Cisco and Caitlin had known him for years.

"He tends to keep his private life private."

A voice cut in from the other side of the room. "Barry?"

He smiled and waved back at the man who'd called his name, letting him know he'd heard. "That's Thompson, he's letting me watch."

Cisco caught his arm. "Wait, how is it?"

While Barry was getting better, new environments and crowded places could still be a problem. He'd been to the station when he was younger, and a few times with Iris since he woke up, but it was still relatively new and certainly crowded. "I'm good."

"Really?" Cisco tilted his head curiously, but when Barry nodded, he seemed content with that. "Okay, you home tonight?"

"Yeah, want me to pick something up on the way?"

Before Cisco could answer, the voice called out again, a little more forceful. "Barry, are you coming?!"

Cisco looked over Barry's shoulder and smiled at Thompson, only to receive a serious frown in return. Turning back, he said, "I'll message you."

"Right."

With Barry gone to follow Thompson, Cisco looked around with Caitlin, more then a little in awe of the digs. He didn't know much about art, but he was pretty sure what was hung on those walls fell under the category of really freaking expensive.

By the time the police were finished, it was coming up on noon and Cisco and Caitlin had taken seats outside around the pool and away from the police activity. Eventually, Barry found them there. "Hey, Dr. Wells wants to meet us at the lab. Me and Joe are gonna head over there now."

It didn't take much to notice something was wrong. Barry was pale, arms crossed over his chest with his hands tucked under to keep them from shaking. Caitlin jumped on it before Cisco could say anything, checking his head with a brisk, "Are you okay? You look pale."

He brushed her off, backing up a step. "Yeah, no, I'm fine, just… I don't think I ate enough breakfast."

And that was a complete lie, because Cisco had been witness to the slaughter of two dozen innocent, cream-filled donuts that had occurred in his apartment that morning. Barry wouldn't be running low on calories for another few hours at least.

He decided not to point it out just yet and watched as Cailtin reached into her purse and pulled out a nutrient bar. She probably had an entire medical kit in there. "Got you covered."

If they were the cast of Harry Potter, Caitlin was Hermione, complete with the small purse magically enhanced to fit everything you could possibly need to take care of a Speedster who liked to play hero. He'd bet she had a thermometer, blood pressure monitor, and splint in there, too, just in case Barry broke something.

Barry took the bar with a forced smile. "Thanks."

"No problem." She shouldered her purse. "Come on, Cisco."

"I'll catch up." He waited for her to get across the room and dropped his voice low enough that they wouldn't be heard. "What's going on?"

"I don't know what…"

"No, no, man, I don't think so. Spill it."

"…I had an episode." Meaning he'd had a panic attack.

"You what?!"

"It was a minor one. I don't think anyone noticed."

Minor or not, it still meant something. They always meant something. "What happened?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Thompson had said they needed to figure out if there was a point of impact so they could determine what hit the glass, so while he went off to talk to Joe, I was looking at the glass, doing my… you know, trying to figure it out and Dr. Wells came up behind me and it was like all the air got sucked out of my lungs. I couldn't breathe. It was only for a minute, though, and like I said, no one saw anything. I'm not even sure Dr. Wells noticed."

Cisco doubted that. Barry had never seen himself when he had a panic attack. There was no mistaking it for anything else. It was like looking at an entirely different person. Dr. Wells would have to be blind not to notice.

"Look, can we talk about this later?"

There were still a few straggling police officers and he could see Joe looking at them from the entry way, waiting. "Yeah, no problem."

He followed Barry out the front door and split off to go meet Caitlin at her car. Since Barry had started crashing at his place, the panic attacks had abated drastically. It helped that Cisco could spot one coming on within seconds and they'd worked on Barry recognizing the signs himself and things he could do to pull it back. It didn't always work, but it was progress, or, at least, Cisco hoped it was.

The thing was, Barry didn't just have episodes for no reason. Something always set them off. The biggest ones were when he fought other metas, especially if they kicked his ass and reminding him of how not impervious he was. Barry could hold it together until the job was done and everyone was safe, but afterwards he was a ticking bomb. Nightmares could do it, too. Cisco had witnessed some truly epic nightmares – the kind that had him knocking on his neighbors' doors, begging them not to call the cops, because, despite what it sounded like, no one was getting murdered. If Barry was left alone to wake up on his own from those, he usually pulled through okay, but if anyone interrupted the process, it could spiral.

There hadn't been any metas in the last few days, though, and Barry hadn't woken up from a nightmare, but that left Cisco with this – what had triggered a panic attack in Dr. Wells' house?

Caitlin turned the radio off and glanced at him curiously. "You're awfully quiet."

"Huh?"

"We've been driving for ten minutes and you haven't said a single word. What are you thinking about?"

"Barry had a panic attack."

"When?!"

"At Dr. Wells'."

Caitlin pulled the car over and turned to Cisco. "Does he know what set it off?"

Cisco shook his head. "He says he has no idea."

He could see the wheels turning in her head, too, just like they had in his. "Okay, but something had to have set him off."

"I know. I'll talk to him later, Caitlin, I promise, and I'll give you all the juicy little details."

The last was said with no small amount of derision. He hated going behind Barry's back with the details of their conversations, but Dr. Wells had agreed with Caitlin that they needed to work together to help Barry and they couldn't do that unless they had all the facts. It wasn't even that he disagreed, because he didn't, he just wasn't sure he agreed that doing it without involving Barry himself was the right way to go about it.

In the end, though, he was outvoted. Cisco slumped in his seat and put his feet on her dash, so that she had to reach out and swat them down before pulling back into traffic. It left behind a dirt smudged imprint of his shoe on the dark interior of her otherwise spotless car and it was a petty revenge, but he'd take what he could get.

* * *

Hartley Rathaway. Of all the people who could have come back to seek revenge, why Hartley? Why not Hitler? He would have preferred Hitler.

"Come on, Cisco, you're exaggerating."

Cisco punched the game buttons violently, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head. "No, I would really have rather dealt with a genocidal megalomaniac then that pompous dick."

At least said pompous dick was safely sealed in the pipeline, again, and at Cisco's mercy, because he had plans for revenge. Plans like making sure all of Hartley's food came from cheap, greasy burger joints that his former co-worker had routinely said he'd rather starve than eat at. Or refusing to give him a nail file. Or switching out his clothes for something pastel.

"Give me that." Barry grabbed the remote. "You have a concussion and you're supposed to be lying down. You promised Caitlin and I _will_ tell on you."

"You wouldn't." No one could be that cruel.

"Try me."

To Barry's level stare, he dropped his head back and groaned. "I hate you, Barry Allen."

A moment and a rush of wind later, he dropped on his bed, clad in pajamas. As soon as his aching head hit the pillow, he was already half out. "Really, really hate you sometimes."

Barry sat down next to him. "Hey, I promised Joe I'd go over and see him after this was over. You'll be okay?"

Cisco frowned at Barry's concern. "I thought I's the one's s'posed to ask you that."

"My turn."

"Yeah, yeah, 'm fine. Go."

Barry waited until he was sure Cisco was asleep to slip out the door. Joe was ready with pizza and beer, the game already on. They watched until half time in comfortable silence before Joe finally broke it with a sigh. "So."

"Oh, no, you first. How's living alone?"

Joe drank a little more, then a lot more. "Too quiet. How's living with Mr. Ramon?"

"Loud. And messy. Like Iris's room in fifth grade messy." He paused for a fond smile. "It's good."

"So, Thompson was impressed with you today. He wasn't the only one."

Barry looked over, eyebrows raised. Him working towards joining the CCPD was one of the few things Joe and Dr. Wells agreed on, though while Dr. Wells had shown disdain for the idea, calling it a complete and utter waste of Barry's talents, Joe had said he thought Barry should concentrate on school and therapy before deciding what to do with the rest of his life. It was enough that he insisted on putting himself at risk as the Flash without adding the CCPD to that.

For him to say he was impressed meant a lot. "Yeah? Because I know you weren't exactly a fan of the idea and I…"

"Barr, just because I wasn't a fan, doesn't mean I don't think you can do it. It just means I worry about you." He clapped Barry on the knee and noted the complete lack of flinch. "You're adjusting faster then I would have thought possible."

"But?" Because they both knew there was always a but.

"But, sometimes I wonder if maybe it isn't a little too fast. You can't repress what happened, Barry, you actually have to deal with it."

"I _am_ dealing with it."

"No, you are not, Barr. I love you, but you're shoving this thing so far down a hole that you can't see it anymore and it will come back to bite you in the ass when you least expect it."

Barry stared longingly at his beer and set it down. He'd never actually been drunk, but he imagined it would have made this a lot easier. "I had another episode today."

"When you were fighting Rathaway?"

"No, before that, at Dr. Wells' place. I don't know, it was weird, but it only lasted for a second and then I was good. I'm still good. Joe, I'm getting better."

"Right," Barry knew that tone. It meant Joe didn't fully believe him – which wasn't surprising as Barry wasn't sure he believed himself – but it also meant he had more to say on the matter. "Remind me again what happened the last time you said that?"

Barry groaned loudly, because that was not fair. His last episode had been bad, but that hadn't been about him repressing anything, that had been about the Reverse-Flash chasing him onto a football field and using him to play kick ball until he'd stopped trying to get up. It hadn't come to much else, just that and threats, but the realization that he wasn't fast enough to outrun his tormentor had hit Barry hard. He'd held it together for a few days after, but barely. He didn't even remember the nightmare that had driven him to run or running or really any of it until he'd come back to himself in Iris's closet hours later.

Barry looked down at his hands, already feeling thoroughly chastised. "You had to put together a search team."

Which, thankfully, had only meant waking up Caitlin and Dr. Wells at two in the morning, but that had been embarrassing enough. Caitlin had used the GPS on his phone to track him. It was sheer luck he'd fallen asleep before changing and happened to have it in his back pocket.

"And?"

"And… I nearly broke Cisco's ribs." Which again, he didn't remember doing and Cisco insisted it wasn't Barry's fault, because it was clear Barry didn't know where he was or what was going on and Cisco knew better than to get too close when he was like that. Not that it made Barry feel any less guilty for having kicked him.

Joe's hand landed reassuringly on his shoulder. "Look, I'm not saying you aren't trying or that I'm not proud of you, because I am. I'm saying you need to be careful. You can beat him, Barr, I know you can, but not if your head isn't in the game."

With a resigned sigh, Barry nodded. "I know. I do and believe me, Joe, there is nothing I want more then to see him brought to justice, to see my dad free. I'm dealing with this."

Joe squeezed his shoulder, not convinced, but willing to drop it. "Come on, let's finish the game."

* * *

Startling Barry awake was not a good idea. Caitlin had suggested music, turned on at a low level and slowly increased, allowing the sound to filter into Barry's subconscious before it woke him. Cisco preferred his method.

He pulled the steaming plate out of the microwave and dropped it on the counter, muttering, "Five, four, three, two…"

"Is that sausage?"

Every time. Cisco may live off delivery and he may not know how to cook beyond a slightly burnt quesadilla, but he could microwave one hell of a breakfast taco. Or six. "And eggs, and potatoes, and cheese."

There was the sound of covers being thrown back from the bedroom and Barry came out, stretching as he went, arms pulled back, then up as he yawned, hair standing up in every direction. "You know I love you right?"

Cisco smiled, ignoring the funny fluttering inside his abdomen as he grabbed his bag. "I've gotta get to S.T.A.R. Labs. You good?"

Barry nodded, half a taco already crammed into his mouth. As Cisco shut the front door behind him, he reminded himself that Barry did not, in any way, look adorable first thing in the morning. Furthermore, Barry saying he loved him did absolutely nothing to the pit of Cisco's stomach, because that? That would be totally wrong. Thinking about Barry in any way that wasn't one hundred percent platonic was wrong. Barry didn't mean it like that, especially not toward Cisco, who would never do anything to break the trust Barry had put in him. Just because they lived together, spent most of their time together, ate together, slept in the same bed together, didn't mean Cisco was allowed to get hung up on him and he wasn't. He wasn't thinking about how when Barry had stretched, the bottom of his shirt separated from the top of his pants by a full two inches – and it was a really nice two inches – or the way his arms did that thing with all the lean muscles and…

You know what? So what if he thought about it? Cisco was human. He was a warm blooded male that hadn't gotten laid in a really, really long time and maybe Barry wasn't an option, but Cisco had eyes. Anyone with eyes would notice.

"Notice what?"

He stopped in his tracks at Caitlin's voice and looked around the cortex until he found her, sitting at her computer. "What?"

"You were mumbling to yourself. Something about options and eyes and noticing things?"

He hoisted his bag a little higher on his shoulder. "Yeah, that was nothing. I'm gonna go work on the…"

He let it trail off and pointed out the door. Caitlin raised her eyebrows, but didn't stop him. When he was sure he wasn't going to be followed, he dropped his bag off in his lab and headed down the corridor to Bay 52 to question Hartley on what he'd said about Ronnie. He'd been tearing his hair out over it for days, but in the end, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try. He owed it to Caitlin, to Ronnie and, if he was really honest, he owed it to himself.

* * *

Hartley was a dick. He was the same smug jerk he'd always been, but Cisco was ready. Or he'd thought he was. He hadn't taking chances. Well, okay a few, but he'd used cuffs and he'd made adjustments to Hartley's implants so he could use them to stop said smug jerk from running off, which had all been really handy until Hartley had distracted him long enough to pull one out and show Cisco his own adjustment.

Stupid Hartley. He stopped tapping his pen on the table and threw it instead. No, Hartley wasn't stupid. A jerk and a dick, but not stupid. Cisco was the one being stupid, thinking he could handle it on his own.

"Hey."

He used one foot to push the seat around and face Barry standing in the door, arms crossed over his chest.

"Are you still beating yourself up over Hartley?"

"It's been, like, four hours. I'm allowed to beat myself up over letting a dangerous criminal loose for at least… two days. What about you? You and Caitlin done bonding?"

Barry smiled. "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous."

"I'm not jealous."

"Says the man who's been sitting alone sulking for the past four hours."

"I thought we agreed I was sulking over Hartley."

Barry cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "So, speaking of bonding. Dr. Wells wants to go over some things with me before I leave and I was thinking about heading over to see my dad after."

"How is he?"

"Fine. I'll probably be back late, but I was thinking. Dr. Wells said we needed some rest before tackling the Ronnie situation, so technically, we don't have work tomorrow. If you're still up when I get done…?"

Barry wagged his eyebrows, eyes flitting down to Cisco's shirt, then back up to his face with a suggestive grin. Cisco sat up in his chair, because that look could mean only one thing. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Will you, Cisco Ramon, do me the honor of introducing me to the Walking Dead?"

Cisco pressed his hands over his heart dramatically. "You've just made me the happiest man in this room. Can we wear matching shirts? And before you ask, yes, I actually have matching shirts."

Barry chuckled, "I'll take that as a yes. I'll pick up food on the way home."

With Barry gone, Cisco dropped his head onto his seat and went back to staring at the ceiling sullenly, trying to come up with a solution to his problem, because the problem wasn't Hartley. Okay, Hartley was part of it, but as angry as he was at himself for letting Hartley get the better of him, it was what he'd said before leaving that was really bothering Cisco.

 _"I figure that makes us even steven." Hartley started to leave, but stopped and knelt down next to Cisco with a sneer. "You know, as much as I dislike you, Cisco, I loathe Dr. Wells, so I'm going to do you a favor."_

 _Cisco sucked in air through the pain searing in his head. "Screw you."_

 _"No need to thank me, but," he leaned down further to put his mouth next to Cisco's ear, "you might want to take another look at your little 3D model of S.T.A.R. Labs."_

He hadn't bothered to elaborate before walking off, but even over the ringing, Cisco's mind was racing. He'd already looked over the pipeline again, checked the cortex as well, but there just wasn't anything there. Then again, Dr. Wells had already admitted he knew there was a potential fault in the accelerator, so, why would Hartley have him looking for another one? What point would there be?

Why was everyone so insistent that Dr. Wells was hiding something? First Joe, now Hartley, and Barry had a panic attack in Dr. Wells' house. No, not just his house, he'd had a panic attack when Dr. Wells snuck up behind him and that wasn't even the first time something like that had happened.

Cisco closed his eyes and rubbed temples. He was so going to hell for even thinking it, but Hartley hadn't lied about anything so far.

He pulled up the model again, looking at it blankly. Okay, not the cortex, not the pipeline, which left the building itself. He separated the model and started running the sections individually, slowly at first and then faster as he didn't find anything out of the ordinary. He was being ridiculous. What did he think he was going to find anyway? Nothing, he wasn't going to find anything, because there was nothing to…

The simulation stopped and he stared at the unidentified areas highlighted in red, two of them, approximately the same size, one along the corridor, the other directly behind it. Those weren't supposed to be there. Sec.04 – that was from phase one. No one went down there. It was all storage and access to the lower levels of the pipeline.

He tapped two fingers on the desk, trying to decide what he should do. With a mumbled, "Screw it," he grabbed his phone and texted Barry to let him know when he was done with Dr. Wells before heading out.

* * *

S.T.A.R. Labs had been built in five phases. Phase one had been completed a little over ten years ago. It had consisted of labs and offices, most of which were converted into storage as the rest of the building progressed and the focus shifted from theoretical science to working models. By the time Cisco had come to S.T.A.R. Labs, the building phases were complete and all that was left were the inner workings of the accelerator itself.

He'd been down there a handful of times, but never often. No one went down there often. The important stuff was kept closer to the functioning labs, phase one generally housed failed projects and light bulbs. Somewhere in the back of his head, he heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like Hartley saying that if someone needed to hide something, this really would be the ideal place to do so.

Holding the sensor out, he scanned in along the wall, while he looked for any sign of a door, hidden or otherwise. If there was a room, there had to be a door and if he was luck, it would be giving off some kind of energy reading. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until the sensor started beeping. The further down the hall he got, the faster it beeped, until it was a frantic little thrum of noise.

He pulled the headphones off his ears, letting them hang around the back of his neck while he slowly reached out to touch the wall. It didn't feel any different from every other wall in the building, but there had to be something. He pressed into the cold cement, feeling along the edges for a hidden button or grip that could be used to pry it open. Then again, it wasn't like there was a visible hinge.

He slid his hand over to the other wall and it lit up under his palm. Cisco jerked back, watching as the concrete opened, pulling back into itself with a soft clacking in a way concrete really wasn't supposed to until it was a gaping hole leading into a dark room. The sides of the opening were several inches thick and inset with blue lights.

Okay, he could go in and find out what all this was about, or he could walk away for now. A nervous smile tugged at his lips. Yeah, right. He pulled his phone out and swiped his thumb over the face. Barry hadn't messaged him. Good, that was good, it meant he had time.

Slipping it back into his pocket, he stepped through the opening and past the blue lights. It gave him the feeling of being scanned, which wasn't helped when the door immediately closed, but before Cisco could panic about that, the lights came on and, Holy mother of god, it was the Reverse-Flash suit.

For a second, Cisco forgot how to breathe. He gasped in air as the rest of the lights came on. There was no one else there, just an empty suit on a form, but it was so much more then that. It was proof. Proof of what was still a little up in the air – proof that Dr. Wells was working with the Reverse-Flash or proof that he… what? _Was_ the Reverse-Flash? Except that didn't make sense, because Dr. Wells was paralyzed. Maybe.

He looked around, a little dazed and a lot confused. Metal walls and at the far end a podium with some kind of holographic image displayed. Flash Missing Vanishes in Crisis. April 25, 2024? He ignored the little pang of disappointment at the By Line, Iris West-Allen.

Stepping forward, he focused instead on the contents of the article itself. "After an extreme street battle with the Reverse-Flash, our city's very own Scarlet Speedster disappeared in an explosion of light. The cause of the fight is currently unknown. According to witnesses…"

The clacking of the door opening behind him made Cisco jump and turn. He had all of half a second to realize there was absolutely no where to hide and, worse, no other way out before a tall figure stepped through.

"Well done, Cisco." Dr. Wells stood just inside the door, stance deceptively relaxed with his hands tucked into his pockets, shoulders slouch, one ankle crossing the other.

Oh god, he was so screwed. Cisco opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Dr. Wells stepped forward and Cisco backed up, hit the podium and maneuvered to the left, not stopping until his back hit the wall with the yellow suit somewhere to his right, but Wells wasn't moving any closer, just the one step. "What gave me away? Was it Barry? I was very careful with him, but did he remember something after his visit the other day?"

Barry. Dr. Wells was standing. He wasn't paralyzed. He was the Reverse-Flash and Cisco had no way of warning Barry. What if he was too late? The door opening must have triggered some kind of silent alarm that told Dr. Wells someone was in his secret lair. What if he'd decided to incapacitate Barry before coming? Probably not, unless he'd known it was Cisco, but even then he might not have taken the chance, not if he'd kept it a secret this long. All he knew was he couldn't give the man a reason to go after Barry.

Numbly, Cisco shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not Barry. It was Hartley."

Dr. Wells laughed, a dark one breath little huff, raising a clenched fist to his mouth for a moment before dropping it again. "Hartley, of course it was Hartley. Jilted lovers can be so… complicated. Although, I'm surprised with you, Cisco. You know better than to trust him."

The six-note tone of the Power Ranger's wrist watch alerted him to an incoming text and he instinctively looked down, reaching for his phone, only to have his wrist caught, Dr. Wells suddenly right there, less then a foot away, eyes red and all traces of humor gone. It took everything he had not to pull away when Wells let go of his wrist and reached around to tug Cisco's phone out of his pocket. He swept his thumb over it before holding it up for Cisco to see.

'Taking a break. Caitlin left. Dr. Wells has one more test to run, then I'm heading out.'

The phone launched across the room, crashed against the metal wall with a sickening crack, but Wells' eyes didn't move from Cisco's face. His heart was pounding painfully in his chest.

"Does Barry know he's covering for you?" And if Cisco had any lingering doubts about Dr. Wells, the deep, unmistakable vibration of the Reverse-Flash's voice coming from his mouth squelched it.

As much as Cisco wanted to be brave, the truth was, he was too scared to lie. "No, I didn't…" he faltered and let the rest of it die in his throat.

Wells didn't need him to finish. His smile was back, red bleeding out of his eyes and when he spoke, his voice was normal. "Good. You'll have to excuse me. If I'm gone too long, Barry will become suspicious and we can't have that, now can we?"

"What?"

Cisco flinched when Wells moved his arm suddenly, pressing himself as far back as he could, but instead of attacking, the man's hand landed on the wall beside Cisco's head. Out of the corner of his eye there was a flash of light and while he couldn't bring himself to look away from Wells staring down at him, he could hear the clacking of metal tiles pulling back and leaving his back exposed.

He'd forgotten there had been two unidentified rooms on the model.

"We'll talk more later, Cisco."

A hand pressed over his chest, pushing him back and Cisco stumbled, landing on his ass. The door sealed shut, leaving behind a seamless metal wall. Numbly, he looked around, a slow realization setting in, because Dr. Wells was the Reverse-Flash and Cisco was currently sitting in a small, windowless room.

No, not a room. _The_ room.

* * *

Barry was still staring at his phone when Dr. Wells returned. Cisco always texted back and always within about thirty seconds of receiving one. It was like some compulsion. In fact, one time Barry had taken the phone away from Cisco after Caitlin had texted her goodbye and held it out of reach. The nail biting anxiety Cisco had suffered over not being able to text her back had been borderline adorable. Barry had only been able to keep it up for two minutes before caving.

So, it was kind of strange that he'd been staring at his phone for a full ninety seconds and nothing. He really shouldn't be worried about ninety seconds, but then it was two minutes, three, five, and Dr. Wells came back, a little tighter around the eyes then when he left, but it was getting late. Barry hopped off the table he'd been sitting on while he waited. The break had given him time to come down from the adrenaline of the fight and he really wanted to see his dad while he still could. In the infirmary, there wouldn't be a glass wall or phone between them.

"Dr. Wells?"

Dr. Wells looked up from his tablet and Barry suddenly realized they were alone in the lab. He took a deep breath through the initial panic, but it was late, he was tired and apparently a little paranoid that night.

"Is it okay if we finish this tomorrow?"

"Of course, Barry." The tightness on Dr. Wells' face eased and Barry grabbed his coat off the chair. "You're going to see your father, correct?"

Barry nodded, already half out the door, but stopped for a moment. "Hey, if you see Cisco, tell him to text me?"

Dr. Wells nodded and Barry set off for the prison. He didn't usually go there alone, the cameras everywhere made him uneasy – the feeling of being watched and recorded. On a normal visit, Joe went with him, but the infirmary was better then the usual room. There was more space to breathe.

Despite the urge to hug his dad while there wasn't anything between them, he stayed in his chair, trying to ignore the orderly behind him while they talked in hushed tones. The decision to tell his dad he was the Flash had been made out of fear and desperation. The first visit he'd made to the prison, there hadn't been anything to talk about. 'How's prison?' didn't go over any better then 'where have you been for ten years?' It had been a tense, awkward twenty minutes that left Barry feeling like maybe he'd lost his dad, too.

After the attack on Joe, when his dad hinted that he knew - or maybe he hadn't been hinting, maybe Barry just wanted him to know so badly that he'd read into it, but, either way, he'd broken down. It gave them something to bond over and Joe had agreed with the decision. He hadn't told Dr. Wells or the others about it. Not even Cisco, because he knew Cisco told them everything.

Not that he blamed Cisco, in fact, it was easier that way. He could barely bring himself to go over these things with one person when he was coming off a panic attack, let alone to a group when he was fully cognizant. It did mean, however, that there were some things he didn't share. Like his feelings of unease when he was alone with Dr. Wells or the fact that he'd told his dad his secret identity.

"She can teleport?"

"But only if she can see where she's going. So, I had to limit her field of vision."

"Get rid of the light…"

"And she can't go anywhere. Yeah."

His dad clapped him on the knee and Barry discretely looked at his watch, the only electronic he'd been allowed to take with him into the room. "Is something wrong? You got her, right?"

"Huh?"

"You keep looking at the time."

Barry blushed a little with embarrassment at having been caught. "No, it's not… Cisco didn't text back earlier."

"Cisco, your roommate?" Barry nodded. "And that isn't like him?"

"No, it… it's not." Barry stared a little harder at his own knee.

"I remember one time, you were four and you kept asking you mom if she was okay. No matter how many times she said yes, you kept asking. Your grandfather had passed the night before. We'd been expecting it, so it wasn't a surprise, but it was still upsetting and you knew. You knew something was wrong, you always knew, sometimes before anyone else."

A hand tugged at the hem of his slacks where they were propped against the side of the bed and he looked up to meet his dad's very serious gaze.

"If you think something is wrong, Barry, don't ignore it."

After a second, he nodded, rubbing his hands over the thighs of his jeans. "Yeah, okay. Look, I'll be by again in the morning."

His dad nodded and Barry looked back to make sure the orderly wasn't watching before reaching down to squeeze his dad's hand. If Cisco still hadn't texted back when he got home, he'd call Caitlin.

* * *

The room.

Despite Cisco's efforts to get Barry to talk, it had always been stilted and with about half of everything left out. He was pretty sure the rest of the conversation happened in Barry's head, but if it wasn't important, Cisco let it go. He was really regretting that about now.

He knew some of what to expect. He knew metal walls, no windows, and a bed. He knew there was a bathroom with no door and he knew about the red lights in the corners where the cameras were. What he found, though, was that details made all the difference. The room was long and narrow, similar in size to the one the suit had been in. There was no table, no chairs, just a twin bed with a metal frame that was welded in a way that made it look like it had grown out of the floor. The bathroom Barry had talked about was barely large enough for the tank-less toilet, the sink, and a small tub that had been installed. There wasn't even a mirror, which, Cisco realized with a sinking sensation, explained why Barry had freaked out that first time he'd used the bathroom in S.T.A.R. Labs. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to see yourself for the first time in ten years.

The silence was stifling. Barry had talked about music, so there had to be speakers somewhere in the walls, but Cisco couldn't find them. For a few minutes, he turned on the water faucet just to fill the space with something other then his own breathing while he tried to think his way out of this.

Dr. Wells was the Reverse-Flash. It was the how and why he couldn't figure out. How was he the Reverse-Flash? As far as he knew, no other particle accelerator had exploded in Central City or even Starling City where Wells had lived before, but he had to have gotten his speed somewhere. Then there was why? Why kill Nora? Why take Barry? Why let Barry go? Why help him? Was he getting off on it, knowing he was the one who hurt him in the first place, listening to what that had done to him?

Cisco leaned against the wall across from the door and clutched the sides of his head in his hands. He'd told Wells everything, every detail of every nightmare Barry had. It hadn't been Wells' idea. As far as he knew, it was Caitlin's, but Wells had backed her up adamantly enough. He'd listened to Cisco's accounts with rapt attention and Cisco had thought it was just a man trying to find some detail that would allow them to help Barry, but now…

A low hum filled the room and Cisco looked up in time to see the door clacking open as Wells step in, a white bag in one hand and a clear cup filled with orange soda in the other. "Hello, Cisco."

When Cisco didn't respond other then to drop his hands, fists clenched uselessly at his side, Wells held the bag out to him. The iconic Big Belly Burger emblem with its fat chef stared back at him. "I thought you might be hungry."

"What time is it?"

Wells smiled and it wasn't the patient, kind smile Cisco had come to know, it was a darkly amused thing that made his skin crawl. "Barry called. Apparently you weren't home when he got there and your phone is off. He's very concerned."

If he was home, it had to be sometime after ten, so he'd been there… two hours if he was being generous and Cisco had an entirely new understanding of what Barry had meant by not having any concept of time.

"Why are you doing this?"

The bag fell to the floor at Cisco's feet and Wells took a sip out of the soda before answering. "You know, I've asked myself that several times tonight and I can't really decide. On the one hand, I like you, Cisco. I don't want to hurt you if I don't have to. On the other, you're very good motivation."

"Motivation?" For who? And there was really only one answer to that. "Barry."

Wells nodded. "You should eat that."

Cisco's stomach turned when he looked at the bag. "I think I'll pass."

"You should still eat." Wells took another long drink before setting the cup down on the floor and stepping back out of the room. "Sleep well, Cisco."

The door shut before Cisco could think of anything else to say.

* * *

He ate the burger and fries long after they were cold. It took him longer to go after the watered down drink, but eventually he sat on the floor with his back to the wall and sipped until it was gone. Shortly after, he gave up and crawled into the bed. It had to be rounding on the early hours of the morning, but he had no real way of telling, just the heavy weight of exhaustion he usually felt from pulling an all-nighter.

When he woke it was to soft beeping and Dr. Wells standing in the open door, the tablet that was usually fixed to his wheelchair in one hand while his other pressed into the screen. "Good morning, Cisco, or should I say good afternoon?"

Cisco rolled over and pushed himself up. He ached all over, which wasn't surprising, considering how stiff the mattress was. Now he knew why Barry had preferred sofas and the floor to actually beds. He glared at Wells. "I wouldn't say good."

Wells shrugged with a glance, foreign smile on his familiar face. He wasn't wearing his glasses. "You're alive."

He didn't have a response for that. 'Screw you' came to mind, but from what Barry had told him, that was a very real possibility.

"Barry's beside himself. You didn't come home last, you weren't in bed this morning. Speaking of, I'm a little disappointed you never told me Barry and you were sharing a bed." Cisco flushed hotly, but Wells ignored it. "Doesn't matter now, I suppose, but I would have encouraged it. It's progress."

"Like you care."

Wells raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I care. I care a great deal, actually."

"Why?"

For a second, it actually looked like Wells was considering it, but instead of answering, he turned the screen of his tablet off and shifted his stance to fully face Cisco. "There's not enough time for that now. Caitlin and Barry went to look for you, but they'll be back soon."

"Why bother coming at all?"

"You are far more intelligent then Barry Allen was at sixteen. I needed to make adjustments to the security. You should have slept another hour at least. I must have miscalculated the dose."

It took Cisco a second to realize what he was saying. The drink. He'd been fine until he'd had the soda, but… "You drank it, too."

"Fast metabolism."

Right, because he was like Barry. A small amount of sedative wasn't likely to have that much of an affect on him. Actually, it wasn't going to have any affect at all and Cisco shouldn't feel betrayed by that, not after everything else, but he kind of did.

"Barry said you never tampered with the food."

"Not often and not that Barry ever noticed. Mild sedative, slow acting, feels just like falling asleep, but then you know that."

He gritted his teeth against the urge to sling curses. He wouldn't have known if Wells hadn't told him, which meant he was gloating and that… that _sucked_ , because there wasn't a damn thing Cisco could do about it.

"I might not be able to get back for a while. A few days, at least."

Cisco considered making a run for it. He had absolutely no delusions about his chances of getting past Wells, but that didn't make it any easier to sit there and do nothing.

Wells shook his head. "Don't. I have a short temper for futile gestures."

Cisco forced himself to relax back onto his elbows and Wells nodded his approval before leaving. As soon as the door was closed, Cisco dropped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. _Days_.


	6. Under the Surface (2)

**Under the Surface (2/3)**

He gave it the night. With the lights low, he sat on the sofa in Cisco's apartment and waited. He let himself drift a little, too wound up to sleep, but unable to focus his thoughts on anything in particular. In the early a.m., he turned music on and managed to lose himself in his head for a few hours.

By six, the first rays of morning light were filtering in through the windows and Cisco still wasn't home, so he phoned Caitlin and ran to S.T.A.R. Labs at six fifteen to wait for her. Dr. Wells got there first, but for once Barry was too worried to feel anxious about being alone with him. If anything the older man's calm concern helped pacify the part of him that wanted to run around the city randomly opening every door.

Caitlin made it in just after seven, dark circles under her eyes and coffee in her hands. It didn't take long for everyone to agree that something was definitely wrong, which did nothing to quell Barry's concerns, but at least he wasn't alone in them.

They went through Cisco's personnel file for his emergency contact numbers to get in touch with his family. It took him nearly an hour to get Cisco's mother off the phone. It took him considerably less time with his brother Dante, but it was a wholly unpleasant conversation, full of snide remarks about how Cisco would probably crawl home when he got finished with dungeons and dragons or whatever game he was playing now. The only thing either call accomplished was giving Barry a greater appreciation for why Cisco never talked about his family.

Staring down at his phone, Barry blinked at the black screen. He couldn't just stand there and do nothing, but what else was he supposed to do? It wasn't like they had any clue where to… clues. He should tell Joe, file a missing person's report. Didn't he have to wait twenty-four hours for that? So maybe nothing official, but Joe could give them a direction to go in.

He shoved his phone in his jacket pocket. "I'm going to see Joe."

Caitlin startled, but Dr. Wells didn't look surprised. He also didn't look particularly enthused. "Until we know what we're dealing with, I'm not sure it's wise to involve the police."

Barry shrugged. "It's not the police. It's Joe."

He tried not to get into the middle of it with them. Not that they put him there on purpose, when he was around. They were both amiable enough towards one another, but privately Dr. Wells maintained that Joe didn't fully understand nor appreciate the threat they were dealing with and Joe insisted there was something about Dr. Wells he didn't trust.

"Of course, Barry. I only mean that, considering our recent endeavors and the enemies we've made, it might be prudent to identify who or what we're up against before involving the law enforcement, especially the ones we care about. It's your decision, though, Barry."

If he got Joe involved and Joe got hurt… but he wasn't sure where else he could turn.

Caitlin put a hand on his shoulder. "I'll go with you." He stooped down to pick her up and she back away, finger pointed at him accusingly. "We're taking my car."

Reluctantly, he agreed. It was too early for Joe to be at the precinct and the drive to the house was longer. If he'd just run, he could have gotten there in seconds, but having Caitlin with him was good, too. He needed the support. Not that Joe wouldn't be supportive, but Barry wasn't exactly sure how convincing it was going to be that there was foul play involved after only twelve hours. Having Caitlin there to back him up felt almost necessary.

Joe was awake, thank god, because when he'd answered the door in navy plaid pajama pants and a white undershirt, it occurred to Barry that he probably should have called first.

"Barr, what… Dr. Snow, good morning. Barry?"

Barry rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Can we come in?"

Joe stepped aside with a tired smile. "There's coffee in the kitchen."

Caitlin shook her head politely. "No, thank you. We're here about Cisco."

"Cisco, what about him?"

Barry studied a familiar notch in the wood floor. "He's missing."

"Missing? Didn't you talk to him last night?"

As they followed Joe through the house into the kitchen and watched him make his morning coffee, Barry explained what had happened. "And I know it's only been twelve hours, but it just… it isn't like him."

"You think something's happened."

"I don't know, maybe? Yes."

"Okay." Joe set his mug down in the sink firmly and when Barry looked confused, he clarified. "Give me a few minutes and we'll head into the station to file a missing person's report."

"Don't we have to wait twenty-four hours for that?"

"Not if there's clear and convincing evidence." Barry opened his mouth to say there really wasn't – the only evidence they had was an unheard of lack of communication and that was treading on thin ice as far as evidence went – but Joe stopped him. "You forget, I know Cisco – maybe not as well as you, but I know him. The entire time you were in a coma, he never missed a call that he didn't return in under five minutes, even when he was in the bathroom."

Barry couldn't help the laugh that slipped out.

"After you woke up, it didn't matter what time it was, he picked up by the second ring. Always. But, Barr, even if I didn't know the kid, your word would be good enough. I'll get dressed, then you follow me to the station. We'll need statements from both of you."

* * *

Getting the report on file was one thing, but the first step toward actual progress would be a subpoena for Cisco's phone records so they could locate the last place it had been used. Even with Joe calling in favors, it would take at least a day, which was time they might not have.

Thankfully, Caitlin had a better idea. "Felicity, it's Caitlin, I need a favor."

Thirty seconds later they had the last ping off Cisco's phone as somewhere within a three block radius of S.T.A.R. Labs, if not inside the lab itself. Most phones had GPS and an emergency turn on feature, but she couldn't activate his, which meant the phone had either been destroyed or the battery had been removed.

Barry slumped against the desk, but Dr. Wells wasn't so easily deterred. "Barry, you said the first sign of trouble was when he didn't respond to your text Tuesday night, when we were going over your results?"

Barry nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"And his phone was off the next time you tried to contact him, an hour later?"

He nodded again.

"Then it would appear that whatever happened to Cisco may have happened here or somewhere very near here."

Barry looked to Caitlin, but she was already sitting at her computer, checking the security logs. With a sigh, she turned back to face them. "Nothing set off the cameras and his card is still active, so he didn't use it when he left."

That wasn't entirely uncommon. Since Barry had become the Flash, they'd let up on certain security measures to allow him to get in and out easier. The security cards got people in, but were no longer necessary to get out. They still used them whenever possible, if for no other reason then to keep track of who was in the building, but when Cisco got caught up in something, he was known to forget. The cameras, though, meant no one had outright broken in, or if they had, they'd been smart enough not to set off any alarms that would have activated the security cameras.

Barry tried to ignore the little voice that said, ' _or fast enough_.'

They stood there a moment longer, all of them trying to think through what to do next. It wasn't like there had been a lot of time for something to happen between when Barry left Cisco in the lab and the first time he texted him. Fifteen minutes, if he was being generous.

Dr. Wells was the first to speak. "We should check his lab. Perhaps he left a note or some indication of where he was going?"

Whereas Cisco's tiny apartment was kept in a constant state of disarray, the lab he had designated as his after the explosion was meticulous; his tools were carefully sorted, sketch book laid out on the table next to the computer, with pens and pencils in a novelty mug to the right. All of which meant that as soon as they entered the lab, it was painfully obvious there wasn't a note.

Caitlin hesitated only a moment before sitting down at the desk and turning on the computer. Or trying to. She pressed the button again, but nothing happened. No whir of the fan, no faint beep that said the system was booting. Her eyebrows drew together as she pressed it one more time, holding it down a second before letting go, but the results were equally disappointing.

Dr. Wells moved up and she pushed her chair to the side to give him room as he reached out over the desk for the PC unit. He held a hand out while he looked over the casing. "Screw driver."

Barry had it in Dr. Wells' hand before Caitlin could consider getting up and Dr. Wells flashed him a reassuring smile before unscrewing the top panel to access the boards. There were a tense few minutes while he turned it over, adjusting his glasses to squint at the motherboard.

Finally, he set it down. "It's been damaged."

Caitlin leaned in for a closer look. "How?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say electrostatic discharge."

Barry blinked. "Lightning?"

"Or some other high voltage shock. The processor is, quite literally, fried."

There hadn't been any kind of lightning storm the night before and even if there had, S.T.A.R. Labs had surge protectors. If those had failed, wouldn't the other computers have been affected, as well?

He leaned in on Dr. Wells' other side, eyes scanning the PC. Inside, the plastic components were singed and melted, but there were no scorch marks on the outer casing. Lightning or any kind of electrical shock should have left marks. The thought provoked memories and Barry blinked back images of lightning skittering over a gloved yellow hand, leaving burns on his chest and abdomen.

Caitlin stood back, her lips a tight line of thought. "What could have done that?"

"There could be any number of explanations. I'll need to run some tests."

A wash of cold left Barry feeling numb. He was jumping to conclusions. They had absolutely no proof that the Reverse-Flash had anything to do with this and yet… and yet he couldn't help remembering the way the meta-human's hand had laid flat against Barry's abdomen, just under his ribs, unmoving until Barry had started to relax in his confusion, before sparking with electricity.

What if it was him? What if Cisco had found something and somehow the Reverse-Flash had…

Dr. Wells' hand on his wrist interrupted his thoughts. "Barry, you need to breathe."

He stared at the hand. His own was shaking. No, not shaking, it was vibrating. The edges of his vision were dark, spots gathering in front of his eyes.

"Breathe, Barry!"

He sucked in air automatically, but the black didn't recede, it thickened. He didn't feel the floor when he hit.

* * *

"Barr? I think he's coming around."

Barry gasped as consciousness rushed back with a strange, too sharp clarity. Joe was over him, a hand on his forehead to keep him from trying to sit up. "Barry, look at me."

He blinked and focused in on Joe's face, inches from his own. "What…?"

Caitlin stepped into his line of site. "It's okay, you fainted, but you hit your head pretty hard on the way down. I need you to stay still while I make sure you don't have a concussion."

It took him a second to work through what she'd said, but he nodded and let her check him – pupils, temperature, pulse, blood pressure. Finally, she stepped back, clearly relieved. Joe helped him sit up and he looked around the cortex, trying to find… Cisco.

He had to close his eyes and breathe deep to push down the welling panic as the memories of that morning came flooding back. When he opened them again, everyone was staring at him. "I fainted?"

Caitlin gave him a particularly sour frown. "Your glucose levels were dangerously low. When was the last time you ate?"

Barry cringed at the show of disappointed faces around him. Joe, Caitlin, Dr. Wells – the cart of fluids hanging just to his left was packed with at least as many as last time, possibly more. "After Shawna. I just got caught up with Cisco and…"

She interrupted. "You can't help him if you're unconscious."

Dr. Wells raised an eyebrow at her anger. "I think what Caitlin is trying to say, is that you need to take care of yourself."

He gave her an apologetic, tense smile. It wasn't like he'd meant for it to happen, but Dr. Wells was right. Joe put a reassuring hand on his knee and to his own surprise Barry found that it was not unwelcome. "You feel better?"

Barry nodded. The fluids had left him feeling rejuvenated, but strangely cold. He rubbed his hands on his thighs to get some warmth in them while he worked through what to say. The clock on the heart monitor was closing in on three thirty, which meant he'd been out four hours. That was a long time. "So, what, um, what have you been doing while I was out?"

Caitlin crossed her arms over her chest. "You mean besides worrying about you?"

He stared at his knees, then back up at her. As it was, she was always fussing over him. While he had a psychiatrist, he couldn't exactly tell Dr. Rayburn everything, or even half of it, really. Most of his medical care, physical and psychological, came down to Caitlin and she took it very seriously. It didn't help that she wasn't a trained psychiatrist and was constantly questioning herself and her own advice. He had some serious apologizing to do.

Dr. Wells shot her a warning glance, but she was too busy giving Barry a heated stare of disappointment – or as Cisco called it when she wasn't listening, her Guilt Glare, with the power to make anyone, meta-human or otherwise, feel about two feet tall in as many seconds. "Cisco's computer is most likely unsalvageable, though I'll continue to do what I can."

"You said it was fried?"

"Electrostatic discharge with a high enough voltage to melt the wiring."

"High voltage like…" he trailed off. Saying the theory out loud made it feel real and he didn't want it to be real.

Caitlin looked at the other men in the room, her arms dropping to her sides. "Like what, Barry?"

"The Reverse-Flash. Could he have… done that?"

Dr. Wells considered it for a moment. "It's certainly possible. It would explain the precision of the damage."

Joe's hand on his knee tightened. "Barry, we'll find him."

"If he's even alive. Joe, what if it was him? He killed my mom and… Even if he hasn't killed Cisco," his voice broke over the words, but he took a breath and pushed forward, "I don't know if that's any better. The alternative is he's keeping him somewhere, probably the same place he kept me and doing the same… I don't want that, but I don't want him to be dead, either. I don't…"

Joe grabbed his shoulders and when Barry flinched back, Joe gripped tighter. "Barry, calm down."

He breathed in deep, out slow. In deep, out slow, forcing the muscles in his neck and shoulder to relax as he went until he had it under control. "I'm sorry. I'm okay."

"You don't have to be okay." He nodded, even if he didn't necessarily believe it. "We don't know the Reverse-Flash had anything to do with this. We can't jump to conclusions. It's been less then twenty-four hours. We need to work this like any other missing person's case."

Barry looked up imploringly. "But how…"

"You let me worry about that. Barr, I will make it my personal mission to find Cisco and bring him home."

That sounded rational and he needed to be rational. He trusted Joe. If anyone could find Cisco, it was Joe. When Barry relaxed fractionally, Joe moved his hands up to Barry's face and Barry took a few more steadying breathes as he leaned into the fatherly touch.

"Good, now let's get you home and cleaned up."

"What?" He couldn't go. They were just starting to look for Cisco. "I can't, what if…"

Dr. Wells cut in, "If we find anything, we'll call, but Joe's right, Barry. You need to get some rest, eat something solid."

He still hesitated, but Caitlin looked like she was going to start with the Guilt Glare again and the power of that disapproval was enough to make him bow out. "You'll call?"

"As soon as we know something."

* * *

It was a miracle Barry had made it out with any of his sanity in tact, let alone as a mostly functioning part of society and a speedster with a hero-complex. Every time he had an episode, Cisco was reminded of that. Every time Barry went from a shy young man with a hesitant grin and bright eyes to a scared child curled into the nearest corner trying to hide from a monster that wasn't there, it was like a shock of ice water making sure he couldn't forget that. It was also a very effective way of beating down morning wood or any other inappropriate reactions his body might have at any given time, because he was a normal, healthy man that hadn't gotten laid in longer then he wanted to admit and not because he was harboring any unrequited feelings toward the person walking around his apartment shirtless.

All of Barry's nightmares, though, centered around the physical abuse and it wasn't that they never talked about the rest, but it was always passing comments. Like when Cisco had asked what Barry wanted to listen to and Barry had said, "Anything but opera." Which was a little out of the blue, because he didn't personally know anyone in their twenties who would think opera was an option, especially not on Cisco's playlist. Then when Cisco had asked why, Barry'd said, "He used to play it in the room. It kept me awake for days. Every time I'd start to fall asleep, he'd turn it up."

Or the time Cisco paused the television to go the bathroom and came back twenty minutes later to Barry still sitting on the sofa, waiting quietly and Cisco just knew he hadn't moved the whole time. So, he'd asked Barry why he hadn't changed the channel or gotten up and done something while he waited and Barry had said, "Don't need to, I used to sit around for weeks with nothing to do. At least, I think it was weeks. It felt longer. I guess I'm just used to getting lost in my head. Hand me the remote, I want to finish this before bed."

It wasn't to say Cisco didn't get it on an intellectual level, but there was intellectual and there was… this. This was suffocating. This was the walls closing in on him and he was going out of his mind trying to keep himself occupied.

He lost count of how many times he went over the walls, looking for anything that felt different – a slight change in texture, color, vibrations of any kind – but there was nothing. Not even by the door where he knew there had to be something on the other side. Barry had mentioned speakers, but those could be in the ceiling.

The cameras were set in the corners, ten feet up, the red lights mocking him, because if he could reach those, get inside them, he might find a way to use them. Then again, maybe not. He didn't know for sure, because he couldn't even try. On his eighth pass over the room, he'd stood on the toilet, but they were still well out of reach. If there had been a tank, he could have done it, but there wasn't one. The sink shifted down under his weight like it would give. He considered trying anyway, but if he fell and busted his head open, he couldn't be sure Wells would bother taking him to a hospital. For that matter, he couldn't be sure the man was watching at that moment, at all.

He flipped off the camera, just in case, and went back to sitting on the bed. He had to think. He had to come up with a way to convince Wells to let him go, but thinking only made it worse, because he kept thinking about all the wrong things. Instead of focusing on how to get out of there, he kept going back to why. Why would Dr. Wells do this, put Barry here, then let him go? What was Cisco supposed to provide motivation for? What did he want Barry to do that he needed motivation for?

Everything Dr. Wells had been doing with Barry over the past months had been about making Barry faster. He was always pushing for more speed, except that as the Reverse-Flash, he was faster then Barry. He'd proven that multiple times.

Maybe… there had to be something else, but thinking about it was giving him a headache. Or maybe that was low blood sugar. He couldn't be sure how long it had been since he'd eaten, but a while now. At least he wouldn't get dehydrated. The water in the sink tasted okay and it was a little awkward bending over it and using his hands, but he could manage.

Eventually, he slept. Then he slept some more. Then he woke up smelling bad enough that he really, really considered taking a shower except there wasn't a towel or a change of clothes. On second thought, there wasn't soap, either, though Wells had been considerate enough to leave toilet paper, so, you know, small favors.

By the time the door opened, Cisco had decided that the first chance he got he was going to make a run for it. He really didn't care what his odds were or whether it would piss Wells off or what he'd do when provoked. Wells had said he had a use for him, so he was fairly confident attempting escape wouldn't get him killed outright. Worst case, he'd get his ass kicked; in fact, if he tried to run, he was _definitely_ getting his ass kicked, but better that then sitting there indefinitely, waiting.

Then the smell of food hit him and Cisco's legs went just a little weak. Okay, a lot weak. He knew that smell. It was Thai food, from the little place a few blocks away from S.T.A.R. Labs that they ordered from frequently when working late nights.

Wells stepped in, an arm held out invitingly. "I thought you might be hungry. I trust that if I allow you to come out to eat with me, you won't do anything reckless?"

As much as he wanted to tell Wells where he could shove his trust, the smell of food had made the growing knot in his stomach suddenly painful. Not to mention, the idea of company, any company, was almost unbearably appealing. He nodded tersely and Wells stepped aside, giving Cisco space to slip past him.

A table had been put in the anti-chamber, the folding plastic kind they kept in storage for events or if someone needed extra workspace. It had been set with takeaway containers and disposable forks, a can of orange crush was already open on one side. The Reverse-Flash suit was on its form, looked down at it all.

Cisco didn't wait for Wells to sit before digging into the box the meal had come in. Wells sat across from him without signs of irritation, but Cisco wasn't sure how to read him. He'd thought he knew Dr. Wells, but the person he knew wasn't capable of this. Any of this.

For now, it seemed Wells was playing the mentor roll, his face placid and polite. "I am sincerely sorry for leaving you in there so long. I couldn't risk coming back until Caitlin had left and she can be very driven when it comes to her friends. Barry has been considerably easier to deal with. He's distraught, but Joe, Iris, and Eddie are proving invaluable at keeping him in check."

Cisco looked up with his eyes only while he chewed. The mention of Barry made his throat tighten and swallowing difficult.

Wells continued, seemingly undeterred by Cisco's silence. "It's been three days since I found you, two since I was last here. Once Caitlin is rested, I'm sure it will be another few before she leaves again. However, I did manage to get some protein bars. Not the most nourishing food this century has to offer, but it will make things at least a little easier."

"Why?"

"Leaving you to starve accomplishes nothing. Although, the human body can go months without food, I imagine it's very unpleasant."

"No, not that. Not…" He licked the stinging spice from his dry lips and pushed his hair back from his face nervously. "Why did you go after Barry? Why did you kill his mom? Why did you wait five years before coming back for him and why come back for him at all? Why did you torture him? Why did you let him go? You said I'm motivation, but for what? What do you need Barry to do that you think you need motivation for?" Wells raised an eyebrow, smiling and Cisco froze, things starting to click into place, little pieces of the puzzle fitting together now that he'd said them out loud. "The particle accelerator, that was on purpose. You let Barry go the same night it exploded, that can't be a coincidence. You knew what was going to happen. You… you _created_ the Flash."

Wells sat back and after a moment, clapped. "You're incredibly clever, Cisco. I've always said so. You and me have never been properly introduced. I am Eobard Thawne."

"Thawne? Like Eddie?"

"Let's call him a distant relative." Wells stopped long enough to take a bite of his food.

"So you're what? From the future?"

"From _a_ future, yes. As for the rest, let's just say that Barry was correct. I had no intentions of killing Nora that night; I was there to kill Barry. When that failed, I was angry."

"So you killed her because you were pissed you couldn't kill Barry?"

"Yes and no. Eat, Cisco. The next time I leave, it may be for longer."

Despite the conversational tone, Cisco heard the threat. Or maybe it was a warning. Either way, Wells, or Thawne, or whoever, wasn't going to risk sneaking food down there while the others were in the building. As he shoved his mouth full of noodles, Wells continued.

"As for the particle accelerator, you are indeed correct. I needed Barry to be struck by that lightning and I couldn't wait for it to happen in the natural order of things. Unfortunately, Hartley discovered the flaw in the accelerator and he turned out to have a much higher moral ground then I anticipated. I had him fired, threatened his career if he told anyone. Apparently, he took it personally."

"I wonder why."

Wells gave a soft laugh. "It wasn't, not really. None of this is. It's simply a means to an end."

"Excuse me if I take being locked in your torture chamber a little personal." Cisco could have bitten his own tongue off, but his stomach was starting to feel uncomfortably full and he was looking at the orange soda like it was going to betray him if he took a sip of it, which it probably was, but he was going to do it anyway.

"I already said I don't want to hurt you."

"Yeah? What about Barry? Did you want to hurt him?"

"Oh yes." There wasn't even the slightest hesitation and every bit of Wells disappeared. The man's face had gone dark, angry, and intense in a way Wells never was. "I wanted him dead, but I can't have that anymore. So, I wanted to hurt him."

"But… why?"

Thawne opened his mouth to answer, but the faint hum of a vibrating phone interrupted him. He pressed his thumb and forefinger over the bridge of his nose tightly before pulling it from the pocket of his jacket and his features softened into a more familiar mask. "I have to take this."

Before Cisco could ask who it was, a lightning fast hand shot forward, grabbed his hair at the back of his head and slammed his forehead down onto the table top. He fell out of the chair, momentarily stunned. Over the ringing in his ears, he heard Thawne speaking to someone.

"Barry, you should be resting. Is everything all right?"

Barry. Cisco rolled onto his side, clutching his head, his palm slipping against something wet. He groaned at the pain and a foot lashed out, connecting with his midsection and driving all the air from his lungs.

"Of course not." The foot toed at Cisco's side in warning as he fought to forced air into his lungs. "No, I'm still here, but give me a few minutes."

Thawne hung up and knelt down to take Cisco's chin in his fingers, tipping his head up. Cisco dropped his hand from his head to brace it against the floor as he finally managed to breathe. He coughed at the end of it, breathed in again and glaring up at Thawne. "I thought you didn't want to hurt me?"

"Want, Cisco, doesn't mean I won't. I couldn't risk you doing something we'd both regret. Let's get you back to your room. Barry will be here soon."

Cisco pushed back away from Thawne, but couldn't get his feet under him. "You stay away from him!"

Thawne grabbed him by an arm, hard, all traces of patience gone as he hauled Cisco up and dragged him the short distance to the wall. Instinctively, Cisco pulled back when the door opened, but Wells – Thawne, not Wells, Wells wasn't real, maybe he'd never been real – was far stronger then he'd ever let on in the past and he had no problem shoving Cisco in ahead of him.

"If I wanted to hurt him now, I would have." Cisco lost his footing, falling to his hands and knees in the center of the room. He twisted around to face Thawne as he stepped up to loom over him. "If I wanted to hurt Barry Allen, I would have done more then break his arm that night. I would have done more then kick him around a football field. That wasn't about hurting him. That was about motivation. The same reason you're here. If you're going to worry about someone, Cisco," Thawne's eyes flashed red, "worry about yourself."

Cisco scrambled back, but didn't try to get up and Thawne didn't move with him. All those stories Barry had told him, everything the healed scars had given away and Cisco knew exactly what Thawne was capable of. In the blink of an eye and a rush of wind, Thawne left and came back, dropping a black clothe bag on the bed.

"Wait!" He wasn't sure what he expected, but Thawne stopped in the door. "You really won't hurt him?"

"For now." The smile didn't reach Thawne's eyes, but Cisco was pretty sure he was telling the truth. He hoped he was.

* * *

If there was one thing positive to come out of the mess that Hartley had made of everything, it was that Barry was too concerned about Cisco to be anxious around Eobard. Oh, he still stopped and made note of the fact they were alone together, but there was no tale tell tightening of muscle in his legs or straightening of his spine. It was noted and dismissed. Eobard wasn't sure which he preferred.

"They found his phone."

Eobard rolled forward in the chair to sit closer to Barry who, for once, did not take the involuntary step back. "Who?"

"The police."

"How did they find it?" He'd left it behind a dumpster several blocks from S.T.A.R. Labs as a precaution, but he honestly hadn't expected it to be found so soon, if at all.

"Some homeless guy tried to pawn it. They're working on fixing it." Barry sat on the edge of the table with a defeated slump in his shoulders. "Not that it matters. Unless he took pictures and even then…"

There was a heavy set to Barry's brow that said he'd slipped into his own thoughts and that wouldn't do. Eobard gently, but precisely, laid a hand several inches above Barry's knee and there was that twitch of muscle that said he wanted to pull his leg back, but didn't want to offend Dr. Wells. "Even then what, Barry?"

"I don't know." Barry gripped the back of his own neck tightly for a moment before dropping the hand down onto the desk to grip the edges. Eobard had removed his hand, but he caught Barry glancing at the place it had been. "Joe says we shouldn't trust anything we get off the phone. It could be planted."

Eobard nodded, just managing to hold in a smile. Joe was a good detective and a problem, but not one he couldn't deal with.

"He also thinks whoever did this is close to us, or at least close to Cisco."

Any humor was gone in an instant. "He does?"

"He says Cisco would have told someone unless he thought it was safe."

"And what do you think, Barry." Because in the end, Joe's suspicions meant little to him. Barry's, however, did.

Barry looked up sheepishly. "I think if this was someone trying to get to us, we would have heard something by now – threats or pictures, or just… something. His family hasn't heard anything, either. So whatever this is, it isn't about any kind of ransom or threat. This is about him, something he knows or that he can do."

Which was just close enough to the truth to make Eobard uncomfortable.

"And I keep going over that night and how when I left, he was fine. Happy. I'd finally agreed to watch Walking Dead with him and there were gonna be matching shirts involved. Then he texted me to let him know when I was done here and that was it. I didn't hear anything else. It's just… As far as I knew, he was going straight home and then he disappears and his computer is trashed. I can't help thinking that Cisco found something on that computer, but it wasn't enough for him to think he was in danger, so he decided to check it out for himself. He wanted me to text him so he'd have enough time to get home first and I wouldn't worry about him. After the whole Hartley debacle? He really had to feel safe with whoever or wherever he was going."

And that was getting too close. There were still months to go before he would be fully ready for Barry to learn the truth, but it was beginning to appear as if Hartley's little sabotage was going to force his hand.

"So, I guess I think Joe's right. I just don't know where that leaves us."

Eobard schooled his features into the patient smile that had become nearly second nature to him over the years. "It leaves us with a great many questions, Barry, but few answers."

"Right." Barry worried the hem of his shirt absently. "I think this may be the first time I've ever wished the cameras at S.T.A.R. Labs were still fully operational."

He didn't bother hiding his smile. Barry's aversion to cameras was visceral. Holding one was uncomfortable, but he could manage, having one aimed at him? That was another issue entirely. When he'd noticed the security cameras around the facility, it had taken several hours and both Caitlin and Cisco to convince him they were off, only activated in the event of a security breach.

If he only knew how well documented his life really was.

"I'll assume you didn't make the trip here just to tell me about Cisco's phone?"

Barry shook his head, fingers beginning to move more rapidly along the hem, twisting and tugging on the string he'd worked lose. "I had to get out. I don't want to leave the apartment, but I just… I needed a break. Iris and Joe act like they can't leave me alone, but then I don't know that I want to be alone there, anyway. All it does is remind me of how empty it is."

In his future, Barry had been a very intuitive forensic scientist and a capable officer in his own right. He was an intelligent young man with an ability to follow lines of fact and reach the logical conclusion before anyone else and with far better accuracy. Watching this Barry for so long, introverted and quiet, Eobard had almost forgotten that. Now, though, his plan would most definitely have to be moved up.

He did, however, need a little more time. "Might I suggest a run?"

Barry looked up from where he'd been staring at his fingers. "What?"

"To ease your mind. You always seem more relaxed when you've been running."

"Yeah, that… that's a really good idea. Thanks." He stopped at the door and tapped his fingers on the glass a few times before looking back. "You'll call if anything happens?"

"Of course." Barry was gone in a blur and Eobard sat in his chair and waited in case the boy had forgotten something. As much as he would have liked to go back and sit with Cisco, talk, answer his questions, he had something else he needed to deal with.

He really never should have started things with Hartley in the first place. Not that it had been a relationship in the typical sense. The boy was simply starved for approval, desperate to belong and be wanted, but equally as desperate not to form attachments that could potentially disappoint him. It had been so easy to pull him in with side-long glances and little compliments and then let Hartley be the one to pull away. Although, regardless of how insistent Hartley was on keeping their encounters casual, he'd expected some form of resentment when Eobard betrayed him, he simply hadn't expected it to get this far. No matter, it was long past time to tie up that particular loose end, anyway.

* * *

For several minutes after Thawne left, Cisco sat on the floor, hands pressed on either side of him, legs half pulled up and splayed awkwardly. When he finally moved, it was with a shocked sense of determination to find out what was in the bag Thawne had dropped on the bed.

His legs shook under him as he pulled himself up, but he leaned against the wall until he was sure he could make it the three feet to the bed without falling over. There was a towel, faded blue scrubs, various toiletries – all consistent with what Cisco used at home and he tried not to think about what that meant – a small first aid kit and thirty yogurt covered, strawberry protein bars.

Cisco ignored the bars and took the first aid kit apart, looking for scissors or anything else that he could use, but it had been stripped of everything except Band-Aids, antiseptic ointment, peroxide wipes, and three packets of extra strength Tylenol. He set the Tylenol aside and took the rest with him into the bathroom.

Without a mirror, it was slow work, but he felt along his head for the small cut, short and thin, then took his time cleaning it, with water first, then soap, then peroxide. When it was clean, dry and disinfected, he studied the angry red line with his fingers for several minutes, partly to try and gauge how deep it was, but more to delay the inevitable. The inevitable being the shower and the red lights staring down at him. It would still be a few more days before he was gross enough to really not care.

He hung his head over the sink.

Physically, he couldn't beat Thawne. Even if he hadn't turned out to be an evil meta-human, Cisco wasn't a fighter by any stretch of the imagination. He relied on his brains and his tech and Thawne had years on him – he thought back to the conversation and his head dropped a little lower – at least a hundred years, probably more. Thawne was from the future. Given tools and time, Cisco could figure a way out, but he didn't really have either of those thing, not with Thawne watching his every move.

He wasn't going to stop looking, but he was smart enough to know when the odds were stacked against him. Right now, his best bet was to just do what he had to in order to keep himself alive and wait for Barry and Caitlin to find him – and he had no doubt they would – which included not sitting around smelling like a dead skunk. Eventually, he'd have to take a bath and there was no point putting off the inevitable. He peeled off the layers of dirty clothes and tossed them in the corner, before going back to the bed to retrieve the supplies and tried not to look up while he scrubbed. It felt good to be clean, even if his head was starting to throb. He applied ointment and a band-aid, hesitated on using the Tylenol, but there was no sense sitting around with a headache when he couldn't turn the lights out.

After he was dressed, he sat on the bed, feet on the cold floor. He could put his shoes back on, but his socks were dirty and Thawne hadn't bothered with clean ones. Barry had never mentioned that, just like he'd never mentioned how cold it was in the room. Not bone chilling or anything and in his own clothes, he'd been comfortable, but the thin scrubs didn't offer the same kind of warmth.

He pulled his feet up onto the bed and scooted back to lean against the wall. The cuff of the pants caught his eye, the seam lose and uneven. Cisco closed his eyes against the sick images playing in his head of Barry's nervous habit of picking the hem out of anything he wore. Long sleeved shirts got the worst of it, but pants weren't immune to the destruction.

These were Barry's clothes.

Screw survival. He was going to rip Thawne's throat out with his bare hands.

* * *

"I know it wasn't on purpose, Eddie, but you should have called."

"So you could skip work and get fired?"

"This is Barry we're talking about."

"Yes, Barry, the grown man who can spend half a day in his own apartment without getting himself killed. Honestly, Iris, you're smothering him."

"I'm not smothering him." Iris dug through her purse while she half walked, half ran down the hallway of Cisco's apartment complex. "What if he's had a panic attack, Eddie, and no one's there?"

"Then he'll be fine. I don't know if you've noticed, but Barry's panic attacks aren't exactly violent if you leave him alone. He curls up in a corner for a few hours and he's a little tired after, mostly embarrassed, but that's about it."

She stopped at the door with a huff. "You shouldn't have lied to me about it."

"I didn't lie. I just… didn't call you right away." She waited for it and sure enough, "It was for your own good."

"And now you sound like my dad." The door across the hall opened, but a quick glare in his direction and the resident immediately closed it again without a word.

They'd done their best not to leave Barry alone. Her dad had been hesitant to get her involved, but he couldn't do it alone. He had a job. She had one, too, of course, but it was a little more flexible and between that and Eddie helping to cover for him, taking the occasional shift with Barry – and he was the best boyfriend ever, seriously, even if he was also kind of being an ass at the moment – so far, they'd managed it. Until today.

Her dad was supposed to have the day off, giving Iris time to go into work, but he'd been called in late that afternoon on an active investigation and Eddie, being his partner had to be there, too. No one could get in touch with Caitlin or Dr. Wells and apparently, they'd decided she should finish the last five hours of her shift before calling her. What they didn't realize was that she expected her dad to be at the apartment and had agreed to do an out of town interview that put her three hours away from Central City. Barry had been so on edge, constantly saying he needed to be out looking. God only knew what he thought he could actually do, but he was determined to do something. Honestly, at this point, she was pretty certain she was going to walk into an empty apartment.

"You know what, why don't you call me back when you decide what kind of relationship you want to have? The kind where we're equals, capable of talking things out and making our own decisions on what's important, or the kind where you aren't getting any sex."

She hung up her phone and shoved it violently into her purse as she fumbled with the key, opened the door and… Barry was curled up on the couch, asleep. Shutting the door quietly, she leaned against it and breathed easy. As she breathed in, the smell of something positively sinful filled her nostrils and she followed it to five empty foil rounds on the coffee table. He must have ordered in. Careful not to make too much noise, she set the trash into a pile to carry into the kitchen. The receipt was under the last one and she stopped when she saw it. Russo's? The only Russo's she knew about was in Starling City.

Was Oliver in town? Why wouldn't he have called her? She dug her phone out of her purse and dialed Oliver on her way to leave the trash in the kitchen. By the time he picked up, she was safely in the bedroom with the door closed.

"Iris, is something wrong?"

Abrupt and to the point, as always. "No, just, where are you?"

"I'm in Starling working on a… situation."

Right, situation meaning Arrow business. That didn't make any sense, though. She sat on the bed. "Is Felicity there?"

"Of course, are you sure nothing's wrong?"

"When was the last time you talked to Barry?"

There was a pause, hardly noticeable, but significant. "A few days ago when he called to get our help with Cisco. Iris, if something's happened…"

"No. No, it's okay. I'll call if we need anything." She hung up before he could reply and sat on the bed, staring at her phone in confusion. If Oliver and Felicity weren't here, where had the Russo's come from?

A low muttering from the living room broke her train of thought. She rushed in, afraid it was a nightmare, but instead, she heard the faint sounds of Barry saying something about kittens on pogo sticks, which was random, but a relief. Seeing as Caitlin hadn't picked up her phone earlier that evening, Iris wasn't sure what she would have done if Barry had an episode.

Chuckling to herself, she sat next to him and fought her conscience for about half a second before whispering, "Why are there kittens on pogo sticks?"

Barry breathed in sharp, pulling in on himself in his sleep and mumbled back, "They're blocking traffic. Bridge is backed up."

She almost felt bad, but it was nice to know some things never changed. "Are they evil kittens?"

"It's rush hour. Have to…" He licked his lip in his sleep. "Have to catch them."

"Why?"

It was like the time they'd played Conker's Bad Fur Day and he'd had recurring dreams about The Great and Mighty Poo. For weeks after, every time she'd asked him questions in his sleep, his response had been, without fail, 'because the Poo.' They had gotten in so much trouble when her dad figured it out. Vaguely, she wondered what it would be this time. Though, out of everything he could have possible said next, she never would have guessed, "'Cause I'm the Flash."

Her smile slipping. "You're what?!"

He startled awake, pulling away instantly and was on the other side of the room before she could blink and… no, that wasn't possible. Cisco's apartment was small, but it wasn't that small.

Barry stared at her from where he was crouched on the floor, confused and disoriented. Then he blinked and looked around, chest heaving in even, deliberate breathes. It took him a minute to pull himself together, but when he did, he looked at her with a kind of abject terror. "Iris?"

As much as she wanted to call him on it, something in his expression stopped her. Instead, she forced herself to relax and smile. "Yeah, sorry I'm so late. I got here as fast as I could."

He blinked again, trying to clear his vision and looked around the apartment, stopping on the cleared off coffee table before focusing back on her. Slowly, he pushed himself up onto his feet. "There's Russo's in the fridge, if you're hungry."

"Russo's? Isn't that in Starling City?" Because if he was going to leave an opening that wide, she couldn't help but at least offer to step through it.

His eyes got wider for a second before he took another deep breath. "Oliver stopped by to make sure I was okay. He brought food."

"Really? That's a long drive. He didn't stay?" She gave him a few seconds, but he was starting to look a little lost and frantic. "You look exhausted. Go lay down in the bedroom. I'll be here if you need me."

Barry walked immediately into the bedroom at a quick pace, not running, but close. She waited until the door was closed to rest back heavily into the cushions. Okay, this was… it might not mean what she thought it did, except that she was pretty sure it did. She grabbed her phone and thumbed through the pictures, stopping at the one she'd taken of the Flash. It was blurry, but it _could_ be. It really could.

Part of her wanted to march through the bedroom door and demand answers, the rest of her knew that was bad idea. Barry didn't do well with confrontation, even before, and now? It just wouldn't be fair to do that to him, not until she was sure, but to be sure she needed proof. She needed someone who knew. Someone that she could force an answer from without feeling guilty about it. The smell of Russo's was still heavy in the room and Iris gripped her phone tighter. Oliver had to know, that's why he wouldn't tell her anything, because he knew who Barry was. Right now, Barry still needed her there, but the minute they got Cisco back, the Starling City Vigilante had some serious explaining to do.

* * *

 **End Note:** On a side note, I've been reading a lot about the comic!verse, because when I get obsessed with something, I go all in. Apparently, in the comics, Barry did indeed talk in his sleep and that's how Iris found out he was the Flash, so I went with it.


	7. Under the Surface (3)

**Under the Surface (3/3)**

The dampers – a theory that Cisco had started and then back-burnered because there were more important things to worry about. Things like Barry, which was the reason he'd been working on the theory in the first place.

When he'd first suggested using the pipeline as a prison, Barry had been adamantly against it. The idea of sticking people down there in those tiny cells for an indefinite period of time had made Barry physically ill, but there just hadn't been any other way. Nowhere else they could put them to contain the threat and Cisco had been the one to convince Barry to go along with it on the understanding that it was temporary. They were going to find something else – a way to contain their powers or rehabilitate them. Cisco had promised that and he'd meant it. He really had.

Then things got in the way. He'd start on it and something would come up and every time Barry had to stomach taking someone else down there, Cisco would sit down to try and figure it out again until something else interrupted him. He kept telling himself he'd get there eventually, but the truth was, he hadn't tried nearly as hard as he should have. Especially now that he had an idea of what it was like.

He should have listened to Barry. Instead, he was stuck sitting in a room not unlike the anti-protein cavities in that there was nothing to do but wait and he was under the same constant supervision. He also didn't have a choice in his company.

Thawne chuckled. "You were right, this really is fantastic."

He shouldn't be ungrateful. It wasn't like the criminals in the pipeline got a movie night or anything, but why did it have to be _this_ movie? He loved this movie and now anytime he tried to watch it, he was going to be thinking about this. About the room and Thawne and sitting curled up next to him, as far to one side of the bed as he could without actually setting a foot off of it, because the man he used to consider a mentor and a friend insisted he stay with a dead stare and a bruising grip on his forearm.

Thawne's hand gripped his knee and he jerked to the side, nearly falling off the bed. "You're not paying attention to the movie."

"It's a little hard with you sitting right there."

"We're bonding." The hand tightened before letting go, reaching for the bag of popcorn between them. "Besides, you love Buster Keaton. You've spent months trying to convince me to watch this."

Cisco seethed, "That was before I knew you were a psychopathic rapist."

"Play nice, Cisco."

"Or what?" He cringed inwardly, because he really shouldn't be tempting the homicidal maniac.

Thawne tipped his head to the side with a strange kind of amused smile. "You're wrong, by the way. I'm not a psychopath. A sociopath, maybe, though I'd make an argument for simply having a more advanced sense of self preservation."

As much as he hated this – the talking that always sounded like Thawne was bragging – at least it felt more productive then just sitting there watching old movies. "You're still a rapist."

Thawne barely shrugged at the accusation. "I won't deny that my anger got the better of me a few times. It's not something I'm proud of."

"It's a little late for sorrys."

"I never said I was sorry. I said I wasn't proud, that is profoundly different from actual regret."

Despite his resolve not to, he looked over and met Thawne's even gaze, trying to find anything that would remind him of Wells, but it wasn't there. They might as well have been talking about where to get the best burgers. "Do you? Regret it, I mean?"

Thawne shook his head. "Not really. It could have been done differently, but as long as it ends the same, I have nothing to regret."

Cisco closed his eyes and dropped his head to his knees, letting his hair fall in the way of Thawne's view to his face.

"You don't have to worry, though, Cisco. I won't do that to you."

"Why not? What's stopping you?"

The bed shifted under him as Thawne sat up straighter and Cisco had to fight every nerve in his body not to move away, if only because he wanted to hear the answer.

"I look around and all I see is death. Everyone, everything, it's dead, it's gone, like living in a museum. All the little wax statues lined up in a row, but none of it's real. You… are different. Despite my best efforts, I've grown quite fond of you and I wasn't lying when I said that having you at S.T.A.R. Labs added to the experience. I'm not a parent, Cisco, but in many ways, you've shown me what it's like to have a son."

He did move back then, getting off the bed as his heart ached at the confession, because that… that wasn't fair. His own parents had never understood him, they'd never approved of him or anything he did and they certainly never encouraged it. Dr. Wells had. Dr. Wells had taken him on and supported him and believed in him. He'd always felt like Dr. Wells was more of a father to him then his own dad had ever been, but now? Now it didn't mean anything, or it shouldn't, because this wasn't Dr. Wells. This was Eobard Thawne. The man was a murderer and worse, but – and this was the part that really hurt – it did. Even as he felt sick hearing the words, he also felt a deeper sense of acceptance. What did that say about him? What did it say that the only person he'd ever felt a true paternal connection to turned out to be this thing?

He took another step back, the heel of his foot tapping against the wall to remind that he had nowhere to run. "Don't call me that. _Never_ call me that."

Thawne's eyes narrowed, but Cisco stood straighter. They stared off for several seconds, until the faint sound of a phone ringing broke the tension and Thawne's face twisted in annoyance. He pulled out his pone and glanced at the display. His resigned sigh told Cisco what was going to happen next, but before he could open his mouth to say it wasn't necessary, Thawne's hand was tight around his neck, cutting off his air and shoving him back against the wall as he answered. "Caitlin, I thought you were meeting Barry and Iris for breakfast?"

Breakfast?! He wasn't even sure why, but it had felt like late evening.

"Really? Are you sure… no, Caitlin, of course. Give me, perhaps, twenty minutes to freshen up."

Black spots were clouding his vision and Cisco kicked out at Thawne's shin, not in any real attempt to get away, because that was pointless, but just to get him to let go so he could breathe. The hand vibrated in warning and Thawne shook his head.

"Coffee would be nice, thank you."

He hung up and Cisco dropped to the floor, one arm out to break his fall, the other hand curled protectively around his throbbing throat while he choked on the air he was trying to suck it. Thawne crouched down and waited for the worst of it to pass before speaking. "It would appear Ronnie has made the news."

"How…" Cisco coughed again, swatting at the hand that patted him on the back. "What do you mean?"

"He's attacked someone, there's a man in critical condition."

"Why?" Ronnie would never hurt someone, not without a reason. Like, a really good reason.

"I have no idea, but I'll be sure to let you know when I find out."

He stayed on the floor, waiting for Thawne leave, but instead, the man stayed, hovering over him until he finally looked up.

"I want you to understand, Cisco, that this – all of this – was never my intention. Putting you in here wasn't part of my plan. Don't get me wrong, I was going to use you eventually, but not like this." Something in the pensive way he looked stopped Cisco from telling him to go to hell. "When I came here to kill Barry, not only did I fail, but I lost my connection to the Speedforce. Obviously, that's being rectified, but there were days, especially in the beginning when I couldn't even feel it. It was like… losing part of myself. When that happened, Barry took the worst of it. He provided an outlet for my pain, for my anger."

"I'm hundreds of years displaced, everyone here is dead where I come from. This technology is… archaic. I can barely breathe here and I won't apologize for doing what I have to in order to get home, even if that means using you."

It almost sounded like… was he trying to reason with him?

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

Cisco waited until the door was closed to move into a seated position, still panting and rubbing his sore neck. Thawne couldn't possibly think there was anything he could say to make what he'd done to Barry, what he was doing to Cisco now, okay. That just… it wasn't going to happen, but if that was really what he'd been trying to do…

He closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the wall with just enough force to hurt. It was insane. This entire thing was insane. Right, because Thawne was insane and maybe he really did think he could justify it. Maybe he thought if he just explained his situation, Cisco would understand and help him, which was enough to make Cisco want to cry for the first time since this started.

He tapped his head back again and breathed deep, steady, like he'd been coaching Barry to do until the pressure of building tears subsided. He let his hand drop from his throat to press against the wall and help lever himself up. Thawne had taken the television with him, which sucked, because now that he was gone, Cisco actually wouldn't have minded watching it.

Too bad, didn't matter. He needed to think, but not about that. He'd have to get back to it eventually, but he still felt raw over what Thawne had said and he didn't want to rehash it yet. Instead, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and refocused. Of course, his mind instantly went to Ronnie, which really wasn't any better.

When Hartley had shown him the footage of Stein merging with Ronnie, he'd been equal parts relieved and horrified. It was his fault Ronnie had been locked in there and he knew Caitlin was right about what Ronnie would say, because that's just who he was. Ronnie cared more about other people then himself. That was one of the many things Cisco loved about him. In fact, it held a place right up there with the assorted breakfast pastries he bought for everyone when they had to work Saturdays.

At the same time, he needed to hear Ronnie say it. Now he might never get that chance, because if it really was Ronnie who had put someone in the hospital, nearly killed him from the sound of it, then it might not be the same Ronnie that Cisco had known.

He moved his hands to the back of his head and rubbed the base of his neck. That wasn't help. He needed a distraction. What had he been thinking about earlier? Right, the dampers.

* * *

Hunting down and saving Ronnie had been a good distraction, which had hurt as much as it helped, because once he was gone, Barry was thrown right back into not knowing what to do with himself. Dr. Wells tried to convince him to start his training again, but he was distracted and, to be honest, he felt drained, emotionally and physically. Even Caitlin, while at peace with Ronnie leaving, looked like she was going to collapse any minute. Nearly two weeks of running around in circles trying to find something, anything that would lead them to Cisco and they had nothing.

The lab was so silent it was painful.

He leaned back against the desk, staring at the suit than hung on the form. It was the last undamaged one they had. The others were set up in the lab, ready for repair. Eiling's little bombs had ripped hundreds of puncture holes in one, burned patches out of the other. Barry wasn't even sure how salvageable they were, but either way, Cisco was going to be pissed.

 _If they ever found him._

 _If he was still alive._

Barry dropped his head down and closed his eyes, only to feel Caitlin's hand on his shoulder. He hadn't even heard her coming and the sudden contact should have at least given him pause, but he was too exhausted for even that. Or maybe he just needed the reassurance he wasn't alone in his thoughts, because when she rested her head against his and said, "He's not going to be happy about his suits," it made Barry smile.

He reached up to rest his hand against hers.

Dr. Wells had gone home for some much needed rest. He'd practically been living at S.T.A.R. Labs the past two weeks and Caitlin had insisted he take at least one night off. Technically, they were supposed to have left as well, but Barry had come back after his run because he couldn't bring himself to go to the apartment where he knew it was Eddie's turn to sit with him and Caitlin wouldn't leave until he did.

The moment of solace was interrupted by a smug voice behind them. "Well, I'd say the gangs all here, but it looks like we're down by half."

Hartley Rathaway.

In whir of motion, Barry was up, standing in front of Caitlin. Hartley was just inside the door, arms crossed over his chest and relaxed against the frame, like he'd been there watching for a while. It couldn't have been that long, Caitlin herself had just come in and she would have noticed a darkly cowled figure, but it still made Barry shudder inwardly.

He glared across the bank of computers that separated them. "What are you doing here?"

Hartley smiled. "Is that any way to treat a friend?"

"You're not a friend." Barry took a step forward, trying to draw on his hero persona to look more confident then he felt. If he had to fight Hartley, he would, especially if the other man threatened Caitlin, but he knew for a fact he wasn't a hundred percent at the moment and he needed to be a hundred percent to beat someone like Hartley.

Hartley didn't seem at all put off by Barry's posturing, if anything, his smile widened. "Maybe not, but I'm still offering to help."

Caitlin moved forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Barry. "How did you get in?"

"You really think it's that difficult? How you people have managed to stay alive this long is beyond me."

She bristled at the slight. "If it was that easy, why did you need Barry to capture you last time? Why not just break in then?"

"I had my reasons."

Honestly, Barry didn't care how Hartley had gotten in. What he did care about, was how they were going to get him out. "What do you want, Hartley?"

"A gay bar on every corner, unlimited Mai Tai's," Hartley raked his eyes up and down Barry and smirked, "You'd do."

With a sigh, Caitlin reached over the desk where her phone sat beside her keyboard. "Barry, put him in the pipeline. I'll call Dr. Wells and let him decide what to do with…"

While Barry was pretty sure it was an empty request, he was still relieved when Hartley stopped her, even if what he said left him a little shocked. "I know where Cisco is!"

She froze with her hand wrapped around her cell, her eyes wide and Barry stared, unsure whether he should believe Hartley, almost afraid to, but there was something in the desperation of it that rang true.

Hartley didn't wait for them to make up their minds. "I'll tell you, but you have to give me something in return."

Barry exchanged looks with Caitlin, who shrugged helplessly, before she asked, "What do you want?"

"Sanctuary."

"Sanctuary? From who?"

Hartley wasn't smiling anymore, he was dead serious, if a little annoyed. "Let's just say I pissed off a very bad man with a penchant for yellow and I've spent the last week playing hide and seek with him. I'm losing. If I tell you were Cisco is, you promise to help me stay alive."

Barry considered the options and realized there weren't any, not really. While Hartley wasn't on Barry's list of favorite people, that didn't mean he deserved to die. Besides, what if he really did know where Cisco was or at the very least, who had him? Barry couldn't take the chance. "Fine. Caitlin, call Dr. Wells."

Hartley shook his head, back to looking smug. "I wouldn't do that."

Caitlin's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why not?"

Instead of answering her, Hartley look at Barry, waiting, expectant. Why shouldn't they call Dr. Wells? Unless… and it took a second, but Barry caught on. The only reason they wouldn't call Dr. Wells was if he was involved. Barry shook his head, even as the sick flip in his stomach said otherwise. "No. You're lying."

Hartley huffed, "I don't need to lie, _Flash_." Barry flinched at the use of his code name. "Are you really telling me that after ten years, you had no idea?"

Barry's jaw clenched defensively, because now that Hartley had said it – he hadn't even really said it, he'd just implied it – Barry couldn't get it out of his head. The voice under the vibration, the smell of aftershave, the feel of Wells' hand on his leg…

Caitlin looked from Hartley, who had pushed off the wall to stand straight, then over to Barry, who was pale and shaking. "I don't understand. Why shouldn't I call Dr. Wells?"

Hartley ignored her, focusing on Barry. "I think you knew, or at least you suspected, but you were too in denial to believe it. Tell me if I'm getting warmer."

"Barry, what is he talking about?"

"Yes, Barry, what am I talking about?"

Barry swallowed down the rising bile and turned to look at Caitlin, only to find he couldn't meet her eyes. "He's saying Dr. Wells…"

He choked on the words and closed his eyes. Hartley was right. He had no idea how he knew, but Hartley was right and somewhere really deep down he thought he might have known for a while now. It was in the way Wells smiled at him sometimes that made him feel cold, the way he watched him that made Barry's skin crawl, the way he told Barry to run that reminded him of the way the Reverse-Flash ordered him to do other things. Not the words, but the tone, the cadence of it. Even in Dr. Wells' house, when the man had come up behind him, it was a smell and a feel and something in the air and Barry had been back in that room, just for a second. It wasn't anything Barry couldn't explain away, though, and he had, again and again.

Caitlin's hand hovered over his shoulder. "Barry?"

Hartley finished it for him. "Dr. Wells is the Reverse-Flash, your man in yellow, Barry's waking nightmare and the man that tortured him for ten years."

Barry chanced a look at her. Caitlin's face was a mask of disbelieving anger. "What is wrong with you, Hartley? You can pick on Cisco's weakness for approval and my inability to cope with emotions, but this isn't some childish insecurity, this is serious. What that man did to Barry, Dr. Wells could never…"

"He's right." She turned on him and Barry couldn't stop the tears building in his eyes, clouding his vision. "Caitlin, I think he's right."

She took him by the shoulders and gave him her sternest expression. "Barry, no. This is what he does. He gets in your head. Dr. Wells has been helping you, Barry. He'd never hurt you. He's… Barry, he's paralyzed."

Barry closed his eyes against her denial, because he wanted to be sucked into it. He wanted so badly to believe that Dr. Wells wouldn't, that he _couldn't_. He'd trusted him and this whole time, even when Joe had voiced his suspicions, Barry had defended him. Caitlin's hands tightened on his shoulders. "Barry, please, just look at me? You have to breathe, remember your breathing. Do you see what you're doing to him? This isn't one of your sick games, Hartley!"

He couldn't bring himself to look at her again, but he did drag air into his lungs, one painful breath at a time. She'd worked with Dr. Wells for years. He was her boss, her colleague, her mentor, she looked up to him. There was nothing Barry was going to be able to say to make her understand, because he didn't understand it himself, he just knew.

Hartley spoke over the roar in Barry's ears. "I can prove it."

He did open his eyes at that, his vision blurred by the tears that were now making steady tracks down his face, but Caitlin's attention, thankfully, was on Hartley. "How?"

"I'll need a computer." Caitlin looked dubious, but nodded and Hartley sat down at the center terminal. Barry pulled himself together enough to follow Caitlin around the desk to stand behind him and watch screens and logins and maps fly by. He couldn't even begin to follow what Hartley was doing and by the furrow of Caitlin's eyebrows, neither could she.

As he worked, Hartley decided to fill the awkward silence with words. "When Harrison broke up with me, I was… irritated. Although, if you ask him, he didn't break up with me, he just fired me. I was more then welcome to continue our little dalliances. Pompous ass."

Caitlin's eyes went wide and Barry tried to shake the image out of his head.

"Anyway, irritated, as I said. So I decided to ruin him. I hacked into his security, bypassed a few seemingly innocuous, heavily encrypted firewalls looking for dirt and found myself… here." The screen split into four squares, each filled with a different view of the same room.

Caitlin gasped while Barry gripped the back of the chair to keep his legs from giving out. His chest was seizing. If he wasn't careful, he was going to have a panic attack and he couldn't afford that right now, because on the screen was the room and Cisco was there, head tipped down at just the right angle to let his hair block his face from the cameras. He was bunched up on one side of the bed, because Wells was on the other, relaxing into the headboard as he watched the television that had been wheeled in.

"Barry, is that…?"

"Yes."

He couldn't take his eyes off the screen, but he could hear the cautious apology in Hartley's words. "That was before the particle accelerator exploded. I did try to find you. I'm not completely heartless and, if nothing else, it really would have put the final nail in Harrison's coffin, but it took some work to track the feed. He's nothing if not cautious. By the time I realized where you were, what he was, what he could do, it was too late. I didn't recognize you at first, but once I knew you were The Flash, I spent some time digging into your past. It wasn't hard to figure it out."

Caitlin reached out, but Barry shoved away from her. It wasn't anything she'd done, but all the careful work he'd done building a wall around then and now was crumbling around him and his body was shaking with the after affects.

Hartley kept talking, like nothing was going on behind him, which Barry appreciated, because it was bad enough that Caitlin saw him this way without having to face Hartley at the same time. "As far as I can tell, Harrison's been playing house with him. He keeps him in there and goes down whenever he gets the chance, brings him food, talks to him, watches movies. There's no sound, so I can't tell what they're saying. Honestly, it's a little boring."

Caitlin tore her eyes off the screen to look down at Hartley in disbelief. "How long have you known he was there?!"

Hartley had the decency to look somewhat contrite, though Barry would have put it closer to defensive. "I had no idea Cisco would be reckless enough to go there on his own. I thought for sure he'd get someone to back him up, especially after he let me escape."

Caitlin narrowed her eyes at Hartley. "Maybe I _should_ call Dr. Wells. If he wants you so badly, he can have you, in exchange for Cisco."

"It was self preservation, Caitlin. I've been a little busy saving my own ass. If Cisco was stupid enough to go in there alone, that was his problem." He turned to Barry. "He hasn't hurt him, not like he hurt you. He's just keeping him there. I don't know why."

Barry had to admit, there was a certain amount of poetry to Caitlin's suggestion, but he wasn't handing anyone over to Wells, no matter how much of a dick they were. "Caitlin, we can't."

"Barry, he knew. He knew Cisco was there this whole time and he left him, he just…"

"I know, okay? I know, trust me, but we _can't_."

She looked angry enough to do it, anyway. He'd never seen her that angry and he was selfishly glad it wasn't aimed at him. "Where is he?"

Hartley hesitated for a second, eyes moving between them before he said, "Phase One, Sublevel Four."

Barry had no idea what that meant, but Caitlin apparently did, because if he'd thought she was angry before, he'd been gravely mistaken. "He's here?!"

He echoed the words subconscious, "Here?"

Here as in… here. In S.T.A.R. Labs? But that would mean… Barry leaned over, his grip on the seat tightening. He was going to be sick. There were only so many betrayals he could take in one day and if Hartley was telling the truth – he was, he had no reason to lie about that – it meant Barry had been in the same building this whole time. There were hundreds of people working in S.T.A.R. Labs when he was kept there and now Cisco. They'd been just a few floors from him this whole time.

Hartley reached down and pulled out a trash can. "You're actually taking this far better then I thought you would. To be honest, considering your medical history, I expected you to be catatonic by this point."

He did his best to snarl at Hartley, but it was ruined when his stomach heaved and he dropped to his knees, clutching the can that he was reluctantly grateful for. Caitlin hovered over him and when he finally managed to stop gagging, she put her hand on his back, not rubbing, but with just enough pressure to let him know she was there. As much as he was reassured, he also kind of hated it. He didn't like feeling weak, but there wasn't another way to describe this.

"Barry, it's okay. We know where he is. We'll get him out."

He dry heaved and swallowed around the bile. "How?"

"I don't know, but we'll figure something out. We can wait until he's distracted and…"

"Caitlin, I'm not going to be able to pretend I don't know." He wanted to be that strong, but he just wasn't. Now that he knew, he couldn't un-know it.

Her lips tightened, but she nodded. "Okay, so we do it tonight. Hartley, do you know how to get in?"

"Of course."

"Good. We have the element of surprise, so let's use that."

Hartley scoffed. "That's a horrible idea. He's in no shape to face Harrison."

"I'm not saying he should face him. I'm saying he runs in, he runs out. If he can get enough of a head start, he can get them both somewhere safe before Wells can catch up."

Hartley was right, it was a horrible idea, but it was the only one they had. Barry sat up, wiped his mouth off on the back of his shirt and met Caitlin's uncertain stare with his own. He could do this. Maybe.

* * *

It went so wrong. Barry would never forgive himself for that. Wells was always telling him to know his limits, Joe warned him that he couldn't 'fake it until you make it' with this, and his dad said trust his instincts. They were all right, even Wells.

According to Hartley there were two doors he'd have to get through, but that was easy enough. The scanners didn't so much detect whether the person was authorized to enter as identify them and send an alert to Wells' computer, which he wouldn't have on him, since he was already in the room and the room was soundproof. Wells wouldn't know Barry was there until the second door started to open. In theory, at least, but theory was all they had.

He put on his suit, hoping that the illusion of strength it gave him on regular missions would be enough, then he did everything the way he and Caitlin had discussed, but it came down to two things. Wells was faster and Barry knew it.

He didn't make it halfway into the room before Wells was off the bed, taking Cisco with him and pressing the younger man into the wall by a hand wrapped too tightly around his throat. Barry froze. There was a bruise on Cisco's face, a healing cut along the side of his head, his mouth was open, trying to pull in air that Wells' hand wouldn't let through.

Barry stood his ground on shaking legs and managed to get out, "Let him go, Wells," even if it didn't have nearly as much force behind it as he wanted.

Cisco's mouth moved in a way that suggested actual words, but Barry couldn't make them out. He also couldn't bring himself to take his eyes away from Wells, who was smiling. "What a pleasant surprise. I figured we'd get here eventually, but I must admit, this is a little sooner then I expected. Welcome home, Barry."

"Shut up." His feet shifted under him, ready to run, but he couldn't – not away because he wouldn't leave Cisco, not towards because his mind and body wouldn't let him run towards the threat Wells presented. "I said, let him go."

Wells' smile hardened. "Or what? What are you going to do, Barry, kill me? Do you think you're faster then me? Can you make it to me before I kill him?"

It wasn't just Wells; it was being in the room. It was the same – same bed, same sheets, same texture-less walls, same sterile smell. Every nerve and muscle in his body wanted to curl up in a corner and hide.

"Come on, Barry, let's play a game." Wells lifted his other arm and it was vibrating. Barry's insides shudder at the memory of what that hand could do.

"No."

This had been a stupid, rash idea. He wasn't faster then Wells. He never had been.

"It's easy. All you have to do is get to him before I shove this hand through his chest and crush his heart."

"Don't." He couldn't take his eyes off Wells, but he can hear Cisco trying to drag air in, desperate croaking around the grip that was crushing his throat.

Wells' smile widened. "Five."

"Please?"

"Four."

"I can't!" _Can't win, can't lose Cisco_.

"Three."

He hesitated just a moment longer then pulling at the electric force, gathered it in as he shifted his stance to run.

"Two."

The element of surprise was all he had left and it wasn't enough. He knew that, even as he launched himself forward. Wells' elbow connected with his face and Barry hit the ground with bone jarring force, sliding across the floor and into the opposite wall. By the time his vision cleared and he pushed himself up onto his elbows, Cisco was a crumbled heap on the floor with Wells standing over his body, looking at Barry with an expression of profound disappointment.

Barry scrambled to get up only to have Wells suddenly crouched in front of him, his hands on Barry's shoulders to stop him from moving forward. "It's over, Barry. He's gone."

Wells' tone was soft and coaxing. Barry tried to pull away, but Wells held tighter and he ended up slumping forward. Cisco was dead. He shouldn't be dead. He'd been right there. All Barry had to do was move, just a little faster, a little sooner.

"You were too slow. Always too slow, isn't that right, Barry?"

Barry lifted his head to glare up at the man who was supposed to be helping him, but the face was nothing like the Wells Barry knew. He couldn't find his voice faced with that.

"You're going to have to be faster than that if you want to save the rest of your family and friends." When Barry tried to move this time, Wells let him and his back hit the wall hard enough to bruise. "Don't worry, I won't go after them right away. I'll give you time, but you might want to hurry. You don't have many people left."

He couldn't be serious. He wouldn't… except he would, because he'd just killed Cisco and Wells _liked_ Cisco. Cisco was dead. He focused on the body over Wells' shoulders – Cisco's hair obscured most of his face, but he could still see the dark, vacant eyes staring forward at nothing. Barry's legs pulled up, arms moving to wrap around them against his will.

"Barry, look at me." The familiar vibration behind the voice drove Barry to look back into red, angry eyes. "One month and then I come for Joe."

* * *

He didn't remember Wells leaving. In fact, he didn't remember anything until he woke up in the cortex with Caitlin hovering over him and everything after that was vague and fuzzy, like he was sleep walking through it, with moments of sharp clarity that threaten to overwhelm him.

Caitlin had been puffy eyed and disheveled, saying that after Wells left, they couldn't get Barry to move or talk to them. On the plus side, she was pretty sure he'd broken Hartley's nose when he tried to drag Barry out of the room. Eventually, they'd resorted to an elephant tranquilizer, which had worn off by the time they managed to get him up to the cortex, but he'd slept for another five hours after.

Hartley had disappeared at some point after they got Barry onto the bed, but Caitlin hadn't bothered to go looking for him. She'd been busy calling Joe to help with Cisco's body. It would be at the morgue by now. Cisco was dead.

He couldn't go back to the apartment and Caitlin didn't want to be alone, either, so they went together to get coffee and not talk, because neither of them knew what to say. He knew that she thought it was her fault. It had been her plan, but he'd gone along with it. In the end, it was on him for thinking he was ready to face the Reverse-Flash when everyone was telling him he wasn't. He should have known better, but he'd thought it would be enough. Instead, every instinct that had been beaten into him had triggered all at once.

Don't look away, always keep your eyes on the threat. If he says to, then fight, move, run, hide, but you won't win. It was never about winning.

Barry sipped at the third cup of coffee, wondering if maybe it hadn't been some sort of self-fulfilling prophesy. He knew he was going to fail so he did. He'd already failed so many times and it wasn't that he didn't try, but he couldn't move fast enough.

 _Always too slow, isn't that right, Barry?_

"Barry, your hands."

He looked down and, shit, he was vibrating. It took effort to get them to stop. "Sorry."

Caitlin started to reach over to him, but her phone stopped her. She pulled away reluctantly to answer it. "Detective West, what… Yes, he woke up a few hours ago. Of course. Barry, it's Joe."

At the mention of Joe, the world blurred around the edges, dull and un-relatable. Cisco was dead, Joe was next. He remembered… Mark Mardon. Clyde had a brother, Mark, who had the same abilities, only stronger. While Joe was at S.T.A.R. Labs the night before, Mark had attacked the police station. He had a vendetta against Joe personally, which put Iris and Barry both at risk. Joe was going to check out an apartment complex on Regis that used to be an old hangout of the Mardon brothers, but until they knew where he was, Joe wanted Barry to find Iris and keep her safe.

He heard the words, he understood the meaning, but it was hard to attach himself to them. Joe was saying Iris was in danger, but she wasn't supposed to be, not yet. Not until Barry had failed to keep Joe safe. Would he go after Iris next, or would he go for Caitlin first? Maybe Oliver or Felicity or Eddie? He needed to get to Iris, keep her safe until he couldn't.

Caitlin wanted to meet them back at her apartment. Mardon wouldn't know to look there and part of Barry wanted to argue that the safest place was S.T.A.R. Labs, but the rest of him shook violently at the idea of going anywhere near there.

In the end, it didn't matter. He met Iris at Joe's house, but they didn't make it halfway to Caitlin's before Eddie called with the news that Joe was missing, presumably kidnapped by Mardon, possibly dead, but there wasn't a body.

Barry didn't remember going to the station, he didn't remember the words in Eddie's speech, but he remembered watching it and thinking Eddie had just lost his partner and he was standing strong and confident, despite everything, despite being faced with the impossible task of bringing down Mardon, who could control the weather, and Barry admired that. He couldn't even think about Cisco in any capacity without the edges of sick panic setting in and that wasn't going to help anyone. That wasn't going to save his friends.

He remembered with vivid sharp clarity, the look of desperation of Iris's face when Mardon called. The drive to the waterfront was hazy, but not Caitlin telling him that if he ran fast enough he might be able to create a barrier that would sap the tidal wave of its energy before it hit the city. He remembered laughing at that and Iris looking at him like he'd lost his mind. Maybe he had. It was always about going faster, though. Everything came down to how fast he could move and it was like some big cosmic joke.

 _Run, Barry, run._

Over and over. Like he wasn't already trying, like he'd never _been_ trying, but he had and he was. He just didn't know if it would be enough and it made him… it made him angry. Not like when Bivolo got in his head – that had been unfocused rage that made him lash out at everyone – but real anger. The kind that burned hot and focused his thoughts. He wasn't losing someone else, not yet and not to this. He might not be able to run fast enough to stop Wells, but he could run fast enough for this.

He didn't pause to look at Iris when he changed into the suit. Both because there just wasn't time and because he was a little scared that her look of betrayal would sap whatever this was coursing through him at the moment and he needed it. Running angry was different than running scared. The anger pushed out the fear and replaced it with something more primal and threatening, something that could consume him if he let it and he might. If it would save Iris and Joe and Caitlin, it wouldn't be so bad. Too late to save Cisco. Oliver had said to stop trying to be who he was. He was starting to think Oliver was right. The burn in his legs, in his lungs, in his heart mounted, everything was a blur, even his own thoughts. The same thing over and over.

Don't let them die, not like Cisco. Don't let them die.

Something snapped. An indefinable tug in his gut and the world around him was a dark blur instead of a bright early afternoon glow. He skidded to a stop and while his heart slowed, his breathing started to even out and it was… night out? And he was in the middle of the city?

"Barry?"

Caitlin? Where was the beach, the tidal wave, Iris?

"Barry, can you hear me?"

He reached up to his ear piece instinctively, still trying to make out where he was exactly. "Yeah, um, yeah, I'm here. Sorry, I…"

What the hell just happened? There was woman trying to get at taxi. He remembered her. Like déjà-vu, only stronger. Was he dreaming? It didn't feel like a dream. It felt real. His heart was still pounding, the anger he'd felt earlier still making his skin feel tight. He was used to his emotions chasing him into waking, but this was different. It wasn't fading and the confusion wasn't driving it away.

"I finally convinced Dr. Wells to go home twenty minutes ago. I thought you might want to head back to the lab and get changed before going home."

 _Wait, what?!_ "Caitlin, what are you talking about?"

"You said that you were going for a run and to let you know when Dr. Wells left. Barry, are you feeling okay?"

He'd said that last night and the lady stomping her foot into the ground, that had happened last night, as well. Almost like he'd… gone back in time? Was that even possible? "Are you at S.T.A.R. Labs."

"Where else would I be?"

Because if this was last night, then she wouldn't know about Dr. Wells.

"Barry, your heart rate is abnormal. What's happening?"

"No, I'm… I'm okay." Was he? Was this even real?

"Barry…"

"What day is it?"

"You're starting to scare me." He looked around him at the lights and the traffic and the woman again, her cell phone against her ear as she told someone she was running late. Caitlin sighed on the other end of the com and gave in. "It's Monday."

Monday night, the night Cisco died, or didn't die? Had it all been some strange new form of panic attack, a waking nightmare that felt so real he was almost sure it had happened?

Someone across the street pointed at him and he started, moving without thought to run back to S.T.A.R. Labs. He had no idea what was going on, but he was going to find out.

* * *

Caitlin was sitting in her little lab off the cortex, exactly where he knew she would be. When she saw him, she immediately checked his vitals and he had to reassure her several times that he was okay while he paced the length of the room, occasionally shaking his hands to stop them from vibrating. He was still tense with the anger he'd felt in the dream that couldn't be a dream.

He looked at the clock again. If it was a dream, nothing would happen. If it was a dream, the digital display would click over to eight forty-five and Hartley wouldn't show up looking smug and giving them answers he didn't want to hear.

Wells was the Reverse-Flash. Barry shook his hands out again. Wells wasn't the Reverse-Flash, was he? His dad said to trust his instincts, Joe said something was off about the man, even Oliver had given him a warning to watch him, but the most damning thing, the thing he couldn't get out of his head, was that he was almost sure it was true.

He had worked so hard in the past months. He'd made so much progress. When he'd first woken up being touched, watched, questioned was strange and disconcerting. He'd flinched and shied away from everyone, even the people he knew he could trust, but he was getting better. Joe giving him a hug, Cisco demanding high fives and fist bumps, his dad putting a hand on his leg when the hospital orderly wasn't looked – he didn't think twice about those anymore. There was no initial panic or shock, not unless it was Dr. Wells. If Dr. Wells touched him, he had the immediate urge to move, walk, get away, _runrunrun_. He'd worked especially hard to squash those urges, but they never completely went away.

That would make sense if what he remembered was true, but it would also mean so much more.

"Well, I'd say the gangs all here, but it looks like we're down by half."

He jerked to a stop. Those were the exact same words, right down to the smug, self-satisfied tone. The hair on the back of Barry's neck stood on end and before he realized what he was doing, Hartley was shoved back against a wall, Barry's arm tight across his clavicle while his fist gripped the neck of his shirt. "What are you doing here?"

Despite his position, Hartley smiled. "Is that any way to treat a friend?"

Barry pulled him forward and shoved him back again, knocking his head against the wall, pushing in closer as he glared down at Hartley. "You're not a friend."

"Maybe not, but I'm still offering to help. Now, are you going to back off, or is this going to get awkward?" Hartley shifted against him where their hips pressed together and Barry backed away instantly.

Caitlin was still standing behind the computer, concern for Barry's suddenly aggression warring with distaste at seeing Hartley. "How did you get in?"

"You really think it's that difficult? How you people have managed to stay alive this long is beyond me."

"If it was that easy, why did you need Barry to capture you last time? Why not just break in then?"

"I had my reasons."

It was the same. It was exactly the same. He was reliving the same thing over again, but how was that even possible?

Caitlin sighed and reached over the desk for her phone. "Barry, put him in the pipeline. I'll call Dr. Wells and let him decide what to do with…"

"I know where Cisco is!"

It was like one of those first person shooter games, after he'd lost the level and he was being forced to re-watch the lead-in video.

"I'll tell you, but you have to give me something in return."

Barry looked at Caitlin, because he knew she was going to look at him and, god, this was weird. This was wrong. She waited for a response from him and when she didn't get one, she turned back to Hartley. "What do you want?"

"Sanctuary."

"Sanctuary? From who?"

Barry opened his mouth before Hartley could. "The Reverse-Flash. You've spent the last week hiding from him, but he's catching up. You want us to help you stay alive."

Hartley faltered, but pulled himself back together quickly. "Yes, exactly."

Caitlin looked between them both for several seconds before reaching for her phone again. "I'm calling Dr. Wells."

"I wouldn't…"

"Don't." Barry interrupted him, because he wasn't doing this again. He wasn't going through the whole drawn out, gut wrenching reveal. Whatever was going on here, however this was happening again, it was going to be different. It was going to _end_ different.

Caitlin stood, shocked and still. "Barry, what's wrong with you? You've been acting strange ever since your run. Did something happen?"

It took a few deep, leveling breathes in and out to say it, but he got it out without sounding like a scared child and that was something. Not much of something, but something. "Dr. Wells is the Reverse-Flash and he has Cisco."

While she processed that, Hartley looked him over, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You're not nearly as far in denial as I thought you were."

He didn't bother with Hartley. Hartley could think whatever he wanted, it was Caitlin he had to convince and she was moving into the familiar defense. "Barry, no. Dr. Wells has been helping you, Barry. He'd never hurt you. He's… Barry, he's paralyzed."

"He can prove it."

She looked at Hartley, who nodded, back to being smug as he sat at the terminal – the same one. Barry had to wonder if that meant something. "When Harrison broke up with me, I was… irritated. Although, if you ask him, he didn't break up with me, he just fired me. I was more then welcome to continue our little dalliances. Pompous ass."

And that image was just as disturbing the second time around. Actually, probably more, because he suddenly realized that meant Dr. Wells had been sleeping with Hartley in the same time frame he'd been raping Barry. He was going to need so much more therapy after this.

"Anyway, irritated, as I said. So I decided to ruin him. I hacked into his security, bypassed a few seemingly innocuous, heavily encrypted firewalls looking for dirt and found myself… here." Once again, the screen split into four, filled with the room, only instead of the sick, stomach wrenching panic he'd felt the first time, there was relief, because he could see Cisco alive. He was _alive_.

Caitlin's gasped. "Barry, is that…?"

"Yes."

He drank in every detail he hadn't the first time. In the sharp clarity of the video, Cisco's hair was clean. He was wearing familiar scrubs and every line in his body was tense, but not like he was hurt, like he was about to run, but Barry knew Cisco was smarter then that. He was smart enough to still be alive after two weeks.

"That was before the particle accelerator exploded. I did try to find you. It took some work to track the feed, Harrison is nothing if not cautious. By the time I realized where you were, what he was, what he could do, it was too late. I didn't recognize you at first, but once I knew you were The Flash, I spent some time digging into your past. It wasn't hard to figure it out."

Caitlin reached out and tentatively put a hand on his shoulder and he reached up, squeezed it in return, found strength in it.

"As far as I can tell, Harrison has been playing house with him. He keeps him in there and goes down whenever he gets the chance, brings him food, talks to him, watches movies. There's no sound, so I can't tell what they're saying. Honestly, it's a little boring."

"How long have you known he was there?!"

And Hartley sounded just as annoyed the second time around. God, but this was so surreal. "I had no idea Cisco would be reckless enough to go there on his own. I thought for sure he'd get someone to back him up, especially after he let me escape."

"Maybe I _should_ call Dr. Wells. If he wants you so badly, he can have you, in exchange for Cisco."

"It was self preservation, Caitlin. I've been a little busy saving my own ass. If Cisco was stupid enough to go in there alone, that was his problem." He turned to Barry. "He hasn't hurt him, not like he hurt you. He's just keeping him there. I don't know why."

Barry didn't either, not really. He knew Wells wanted him faster, but he couldn't even begin to imagine why; not so that Barry could beat him, because that was the one consistent message in everything the Reverse-Flash did. Barry lost, even when he did what he was told, he lost. Which was exactly what was going to happen if he charged in there again. He could feel it in his gut, the lurking edge of panic just below the surface and the second he stepped foot in that room, it was going to swallow him and he was going to play Wells' little game again and he was going to lose again, like some sick, twisted version of chess.

Chess. That's what this was to him. Sacrifice the pawn to force the knight to move and Barry had never been very good at chess when he played against Dr. Wells, but Hartley was.

He gripped the back of the chair to steady himself and looked at Caitlin, who had her phone in hand, waiting for Barry to tell her what to do. "Caitlin, we can't."

"Barry, he knew. He knew Cisco was there this whole time and he left him, he just…"

"I know, okay? I know, but he's going to help us get him back."

"He is?"

"I am?!"

"Yes." He looked down at Hartley. "You like playing games with Dr. Wells? Here's your chance. What's our move?"

* * *

If Thawne was working a sympathy angle, he was taking his sweet damn time about it. It had been a week since his little speech and he hadn't brought it back up. Not once. Even when Cisco asked leading questions, hoping to stir some more of the evil ranting, he'd only been given vague answers that left him frustrated. However, while Thawne was less then willing to share information regarding himself, he was much more forthcoming when it came to what was happening with the others outside of the room.

Cisco knew what day it was, he knew it was eight in the evening when Thawne walked in, he could guess it was closing in on nine thirty by how far into the movie they were. He knew about Ronnie and Dr. Stein and that they were okay. He also knew about his suits and that shouldn't upset him, considering everything else, but really, he'd only been gone two weeks – it felt like longer, it felt like months, but he had to believe Thawne on that one little thing or he was going to lose his mind – how hard was it to keep his suits in tact for two weeks?

"Something on your mind, Cisco?"

Thawne held out the large cardboard package of fries like a peace offering. It probably was. This whole thing – dinner and a movie marathon and a promise to spend the whole night keeping him company – was one big 'sorry for hitting you upside the face the other day.' Well, screw him, because Cisco wasn't in the mood to accept peace offerings.

Another thought crept in under that, unwarranted and unwanted. _I knew better_. And no, just _no_. That was exactly what he was trying to avoid, because okay, sure, maybe Cisco shouldn't have thrown the books, but that wasn't even the point. He couldn't lock Cisco in a tiny room with nothing to do and no sugar and expect him not to lash out at some point.

Cisco closed his eyes and swallowed his frustration.

"Cisco?"

Except he couldn't lash out again, not if he wanted to convince Thawne he was willing to help. He'd spent the last week playing nice, barring the incident with the books, but Thawne had already forgiven him for that. To be fair, it had been a cheap shot on both their parts. _No_. That wasn't… it was a stupid move on his part, not a cheap shot, because 'cheap shot' would imply Thawne hadn't deserved it and he did. He really, really did.

"Cisco." More urgent this time, more demanding.

"You're a dick." The response was out before he could stop it, but Thawne only raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. Cisco dropped his head, rubbing his temples to ease the oncoming headache. "I'm sorry, that's not… I didn't mean that."

Thawne shrugged and said, "I asked." Before putting two fries in his mouth, focus again on the television in front of them. "And you did. Mean it, that is, but I won't hold it against you. I've been called worse."

Cisco just bet he had. He dug deep, picked a safe topic and pressed forward with that. "So, you said… the technology in the future. You said what we have here is, how did you put it, archaic?"

"Obviously. A few hundred years will do that."

"Right. So, a few hundred years. That's when you're from?"

"More or less."

"That's got to be pretty hard, right? Not being able to be with the people you…"

"Stop." Thawne finally looked over, the placating smile gone. Cisco dropped his gaze to avoid the eye contact. "You don't have to do that, Cisco."

"What? I don't…"

"You may be clever, but you're a horrible liar and you've never been very good at deceit."

Cisco forced himself to meet Thawne's eyes. "I can help you. With Barry, I could… if you explain it to me, I can…"

"No, you won't. You're too good for that. You would pretend, badly, and the first chance you had, you would run. It's one of the many things I love about you, Cisco, you're loyal. Unfortunately, that loyalty lies with someone else."

Cisco dropped his eyes at the word 'love,' going back to staring at his bare feet against the pale blue hospital sheet while Thawne continued.

"Although, I'll admit, it is a far stronger loyalty then the one I was familiar with in alternative futures. Hazards of playing with the timeline, the littlest thing can change…" Thawne moved one arm up in a sweeping gesture, "…everything."

"What you did wasn't little." Cisco didn't bother to hide the contempt. There wasn't any point.

"No, but we've been over that. The important things have remained the same. Fate chose Barry to become the Flash once before and it chose him again. Barry's strong, resilient. He has the capacity to be great and that wasn't going to change, no matter what I did to him. It's the details that changed. Details like your feelings for our Mr. Allen, and his feelings for you."

"Stop it." He moved to his knees, one leg half off the bed.

"For months now, I've wondered about that little By Line. Did you notice it? Iris West-Allen and I thought, wasn't that interesting, because she isn't the one he goes to anymore with all his secrets. She isn't the one who comforts him in the middle of the night. She isn't the one he leans on. She isn't the one he goes home to, the one he wakes up with."

"I said, stop it!"

"The future can be changed, not without consequences, but it can be done. Not that it matters anymore."

Cisco stood up off the bed, to hell with Thawne and his games. He was done playing nice. If Thawne wanted Cisco to sit on the bed and bond over The Princess Bride, he could…

The vibration of a phone stopped Cisco's train of thought in its tracks. He tensed for an upcoming attack. He was already standing, so it was probably going to be a choke hold against the wall again, which was bad, but better then the time he'd been smothered with the pillow. Instead, Thawne looked at the screen and replaced it back in his pocket, before standing to walk around the bed, slowly and deliberately until he was only a few feet from Cisco.

"No matter what happens in the next few minutes, please know, that I never wanted it to end this way."

Before he could ask what that meant, the door opened and Cisco was back in the now familiar position of being pressed against the wall a hand wrapped tightly around his neck, only this time Barry was standing in the door, wearing his Flash suit with the hood down. He was standing almost straight, legs bent like he was going to move, but his hands were shaking. Despite the involuntary tears building in his eyes, Cisco could make out the nervous tick in Barry's mouth and eyes.

"Let him go, Wells."

Cisco mouthed 'Not Wells,' because he wasn't sure if he'd get another chance to tell him. He dug his nails into Thawne's hand, but it only tightened, vibrating in warning.

"What a pleasant surprise. Welcome home, Barry."

"I said let. Him. Go." Barry's voice was shaking, but it didn't sound like the nervous, scared shaking Cisco had expected, it sounded like barely contained rage. Almost like when Barry had been whammied by Rainbow Raider. Seriously, Caitlin was never allowed to give anyone a nick name ever again.

"Or what? What are you going to do, Barry, kill me? Do you think you're faster then me? Can you make it to me, before I kill him? Come on, Barry, let's play a game." Thawne lifted his other arm and it was vibrating and Cisco kicked out at the man's shins, figuring what the hell, he was dead either way, because it was becoming very clear what Thawne had meant by motivation. "It's easy. All you have to do is get to him before I shove this hand through his chest and crush his heart."

Cisco clawed at the arm, trying desperately to tell Barry to run, but nothing came out. Then Barry looked Cisco in the eyes and it sounded, over the roar in his ears like he said, "Not this time."

A head splitting screech filled the room and air rushed into Cisco's lungs as he was dropped, his shoulder hitting the floor. He clawed at his own head to try and cover his ears. He'd clenched his eyes involuntarily against the pain, so he didn't know who it was that grabbed him, but he felt someone pull him to his feet and half carry, half drag him out of the room.

"Come on, Cisco, move!"

Hartley?

Despite the pain, he opened his eyes and it _was_ Hartley, in his sweeping black cloak with one arm under Cisco's grunting as he tried to force Cisco along.

"Caitlin, a little help would be greatly appreciated!"

They made it through the open door of the anti-chamber and the ringing died down to a bearable level, enough that he could process Caitlin moving in to his other side, helping Hartley drag him down the hall at an awkward, but steady run.

Caitlin stumbled on her heals and Hartley made a comment under his breath about impractical footwear, but Cisco had other concerns.

"Wait…" the pain in his throat was excruciating. He swallowed around it and tried again. "Where's Barry?"

It didn't sound like him, he wasn't even sure it sounded human. God, Thawne really had meant to kill him that time. His throat felt shredded and crushed.

"He'll catch up." Hartley answered tersely as he adjusted his grip with a grunt. They jostled him into an elevator, its door propped open with a brick that Caitlin kicked out of the way the moment they were inside.

"We can't leave him there!" Cisco tried to push away from them, never mind that he wasn't sure if he could stand without their assistance, let alone walk. He wasn't leaving Barry back there to face Thawne alone. Something sharp jabbed into his arm and he looked over to see Hartley holding a pneumatic needle. A moment later, the room started to spin. Not in the, I'm-gonna-pass-out kind of way, but in the my-legs-feel-like-jelly kind. He glared at Hartley even as he leaned more heavily against him to keep from falling to the floor.

Caitlin's arm around his chest tightened. "That couldn't have waited until we got downstairs?"

Hartley shrugged, clearly undeterred as the doors opened to the bunker. Why were they in the bunker? They half carried, half dragged him across the room, up onto the force field's podium where they visible relaxed. Cisco was lowered to sit on the ground, Caitlin taking up most of the effort supporting him in an upright position.

Not that he wasn't grateful, but this wasn't right. He gripped Caitlin's arm insistently, adrenaline and whatever Hartley had shot him up with helping him get the words out. "Can't leave him. Caitlin, we can't…"

She took his hand. "Don't try to talk, it's okay."

Hartley was looking at a watch on his wrist. "Four. Three. Two. It's off."

The room filled with unnatural silence as Cisco tried to work through what was going on and Caitlin and Hartley held their breath. What was off? What were they waiting for? What…

The answer came in a streak of lightning and suddenly Barry was there, just on the other side of the force field, pale and shaking, but alive and alone. There was a tense few seconds before Barry said, "Are you gonna let me in?"

Hartley sneered. "He could be right behind you."

"If I thought he was behind me, I wouldn't have come here."

"Oh, for god's sake, Hartley." Caitlin grabbed the remote to the force field and pressed the button, turning it off and while Cisco still had no idea what was going on, he didn't care, because Barry was next to him.

Cisco slumped back on Caitlin's lap and Barry's shaking fingers pushed his hair from his eyes, then leaned forward, putting his forehead to Cisco's. "You're okay. You're alive, you're okay."

Cisco nodded, then winched.

Barry pulled back and put a hand on Cisco's head. "Don't, um… don't move, okay? Caitlin needs to look you over, just… rest for right now."

Hartley huffed a, "You're welcome," from somewhere to the left and Cisco would have pointed out that it was Hartley's fault he'd been there in the first place, but he was too busy passing out.

* * *

The first thing Cisco saw was Barry's face and he thought it was a dream. Then Barry smiled, really smiled, brighter and bigger than in any dreams Cisco'd had and there had been some really nice ones in there. He blinked the thought away, because so not appropriate right then.

Barry squeezed his hand. "Hey, there."

"Hey, oh… wow." His throat had hurt earlier, but he must have been too shocked at the rescue, too worried about Barry and then too drugged up to realize exactly how much damage there was.

Caitlin came over and injected something into an IV bag connected to his arm. "That should help. Try not to talk too much." He nodded and flinched. "Or move. And I'd stick with soup for the next few days, nothing solid until the swelling goes down."

He mouthed "Icee" and she raised an eyebrow with a quirked lip that melted into a smile. "I'll see what we can do."

She moved off and Cisco would have watched her go, but that would have required moving his head, which he wasn't going to be doing anytime soon – at least, not until the pain killers kicked in. Barry squeezed Cisco's hand again and he relaxed into the bed, while Barry explained everything.

Apparently, it had been Hartley's idea. He'd altered Cisco's force field so that it would work in reverse, keeping a speedster out as a opposed to in, then he'd hacked the speakers in the room and emitted a frequency similar to the one that had nearly killed Barry. Barry's suit had emitted a counter wave to protect him, but he'd stayed behind while Caitlin and Hartley got Cisco to safety, just in case Wells tried anything.

According to Barry, he hadn't. As soon as the timer ran down and the speakers cut off, Wells had stood there staring at him for several seconds before leaving without a word. Barry had done a quick search of the facility before coming back to tell them it was okay.

Cisco made a mental note to fill them in on the whole Wells/Thawne thing when he could talk without it feeling like tiny nails were dragging over the inside of his throat. The painkillers were starting to kick in and as he looked around the room, he realized he had yet to see Hartley.

He tugged at Barry's hand to make sure he had his attention and mouthed, "Hartley?"

"He's around here somewhere. Look, I know you guys don't like him, but he's the reason we found you. He's the reason we got you out alive."

Caitlin tisked somewhere not far off. "We could have managed without him."

"No, we couldn't."

He sounded so sure and he wasn't smiling anymore. In the back of his head, Cisco thought he remembered Barry saying something like, ' _Not this time.'_ But he'd been halfway to unconscious, so he couldn't be sure. He'd deal with that and Hartley later. Right now, he was going to enjoy the cold wash of strong pain killers dragging him to a very happy place while Barry, with clear and great reluctance, rushed off for a few seconds and reappeared holding an Orange Cream Icee.

Getting kidnapped by a psychopathic, lying, murdering, meta-human from the future apparently had an upside.

* * *

Hartley hated waiting, but it wasn't like he had anywhere else to be. He could wander the vacant halls of the once bustling S.T.A.R. Labs, or worse, stand in the cortex and choke on the feelings being spread around like a virus. Given those options, he'd much rather work his way into the bowels of the particle accelerator. It hadn't been an order, per say, Hartley didn't do orders, but he did take the occasional suggestion, especially when it was intriguing and he wasn't going to lie to himself and say he wasn't intrigued. Besides, he also did threats and dying would have put a serious snag in his future plans – specifically the one where he actually had a future.

Still, by the time Harrison came down the ladder into the subterranean room, Hartley was seriously considering leaving.

"Finally, I was beginning to think you'd stood me up."

Harrison didn't respond until he'd finished his decent and was looking down from the platform at Hartley seating in the chair that had been left for him. "You know how much I hate loose ends, Hartley."

"Is that what I am? A loose end? And here I thought I was your guy."

Harrison dropped off the platform and Hartley sat still as the man walked up to him, coming to stop less then a foot away. "What you are, Hartley, is a spoiled brat who nearly ruined everything."

"But I didn't. Your little pet is still alive." At Harrison's raised eyebrows, he amended it to, "Both of them, and I'm guessing you got what you wanted."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're never this smug unless you've gotten what you want." He shifted down in the seat, splayed his legs suggestively, just in case Harrison missed the innuendo. "So, what was it? Not Barry coming to rescue his Cisco. You expected that or you wouldn't have had me come back to expose you."

"No, not that." Harrison stepped in between Hartley's knees and took his chin in his hand. "I should still kill you."

"But you won't."

"I won't?" He dropped the hand lower, thumb brushing over Hartley's adam's apple, vibrating, and Hartley shivered.

"No, because without me, you have no one on the inside. They'll figure out about your little cameras sooner or later and don't bother denying it. You've had those in place since before I started working here, before you started positioning our little afternoon trysts so you could get them on film, so to speak."

Harrison chuckled darkly, but moved his hand lower still, plucking at the top button Hartley's shirt. "You're right, I do still have a use for you. Despite your attempt at retribution, it would appear you've actually helped me to move things along and, as you've said, Barry came to no permanent injury. It seems I have little reason to dispose of you for now. However," Harrison's hand slipped through the half open shirt and came to rest on Hartley's chest, still vibrating softly and when he spoke his voice had slipped into the deep reverberation of his alter ego – or true self, Hartley wasn't ruling anything out just yet. "If you cross me again, I will not hesitate to crush your heart with my bare hand. Do we have an understanding?"

He'd known for some time that Harrison was not the mild mannered scientist he pretended to be, long before he figured out the man was cutting safety corners on the particle accelerator, or, well, not cutting corners precisely, as much as he was turning a strategically blind eye to fatal flaws that looked almost intentional. So, not mild mannered, but probably at least a little insane, and, most importantly, a genius. Hartley didn't understand half of what Harrison did, but he knew it all had a purpose and he wanted to know what that purpose was.

Hartley smirked up at the older man and reached for his belt. Harrison always did say actions spoke louder then words.


	8. Meanwhile

**Summary:** A hopscotch through Episode 16, in which Iris is not happy with the men in her life, Oliver can't get a break, Cisco is not ashamed to admit he's desperate (okay, he's a little ashamed), everyone except Barry knows about Cisco's not-so-little crush, and Barry's just trying to protect the person he loves. People! The people he loves!

* * *

 _ **Meanwhile...**_

* * *

 _ **…in Starling City**_

Iris considered the many ways she could confront Oliver Queen. She considered calling him rather then taking the train to do it in person. It would save time and money, but she wanted to make sure he could see how angry she was with him. She considered borrowing someone's cat, sneaking into the Arrow Cave, and setting herself up evil villain style in Felicity's chair, but carrying an animal with her to and from Starling City would be difficult. She briefly considered shooting him in the back with a cross bow, but knowing Oliver, he's see it coming and either dodge or catch it, which would be really cool, but less satisfying.

In the end, she seethed the entire train ride, called Felicity to confirm Oliver was at the club, glared through the windshield of the taxi that dropped her off late in the afternoon, stormed through the access door and said, "Barry's the Flash," as she was walking down the steps.

Oliver had stopped midway up the Solomon Bar and Iris was both horrified and relieved that she hadn't given herself time to assess the situation before she spoke. On the one hand, she might have been distracted if she'd noticed and she didn't need any distractions. On the other hand, she should have let him finish the set first, it would have been the polite thing to do.

He stayed suspended for several seconds before working his way down again, dropping to the floor to grab a towel and wipe the sweat off his hard, glistening pecs and abs and yeah, it was a good thing she hadn't looked around first. The towel was tossed aside and Iris crossed her arms when he took his water bottle and drank half of it before saying, "He told you?"

Which was all the confirmation she needed. "No, you did, just now."

His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "You wouldn't have come all the way out here if you didn't already know."

"I suspected. You confirmed." He looked appropriately annoyed at that, so she plowed forward. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Iris, it… it wasn't my secret to tell."

"He's my best friend, Oliver. I've spent the last eleven years trying to find out what happened to him. I had a right to know."

"If he wanted you to know, he would have told you."

"He would have told me if…"

Oh! She hadn't even considered that, but they'd always been close and maybe Barry didn't tell her much about those ten years, but they still talked, almost daily, about everything else. He told her every little detail about living with Cisco, he'd been a little cagy about S.T.A.R. Labs at first, but seeing as they were helping him with his physical and emotion recovery, she'd understood. He talked to her about his practice exams for the G.E.D. and then the S.A.T., about where he was taking it, all the new music and movies he was discovering, she even knew his preference in underwear – style, color, and size. If he hadn't told her about being the Flash, it was because someone told him not to.

At her sudden silence, Oliver shifted uncomfortably. "Iris?"

"Who told him not to tell me?"

"That's not my…"

"Oliver." He matched her crossed arms by crossing his own and she sensed that she'd reached the limit of her intimidation. Fortunately for her, there were plenty of other avenues to explore. "I will call Thea."

Thea, who had been lied to and kept in the dark just like her, only for longer; she would be more than willing and able to force Oliver's hand. He sighed and closed his eyes in resignation. "Your father. He doesn't want to see you get hurt and Barry agrees with him."

"Do you?"

"I told him it would be better if it came from him." Which sounded exactly like Oliver, who didn't actually see anything wrong with lying to the people he loved, he just didn't like the repercussions when said people found out.

She tapped her foot on the cement floor. "Who else knows?"

"Felicity." She expected as much. It was annoying, but at least Felicity would understand why she was upset about it.

"Anyone else?"

"His friends at S.T.A.R. Labs." That was obvious. It hadn't taken much to put together that all the time he was spending there had something to do with him being the Flash.

"And?"

"He mentioned his dad. As far as I know, that's all."

She'd go ahead and assume Diggle knew, so that made six. At least Barry was better at keeping a secret then Oliver. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Ask Barry."

"Oliver…"

"Give him a chance to tell you."

As much as she really wanted answers, he was right. She had to give Barry a chance to explain things. She wasn't even mad at him, really, a little disappointed, but while Barry could be headstrong and stubborn sometimes, he'd always looked to her dad for approval.

"Fine." She stopped halfway up the steps. "I already called Thea, by the way. She is not happy with you."

Sometimes revenge was better left to the people who really knew what they were doing. In the meantime, she was going to meet up with Felicity, do some shopping and have dinner before going to the train station.

* * *

 _ **…at Cisco's Apartment**_

"Please!?" If Cisco thought it would help, he'd be on his knees.

Barry stood by the counter, still frowning pensively. "I really don't think it's a good idea. It hasn't been that long since…"

"It's been a week." Well, six days, but close enough and Cisco couldn't stay cooped up in his apartment for much longer without bouncing off the walls, no matter how much he enjoyed Barry nursing him back to health. Apparently, there actually was a limit to how many Icees he could drink.

"You're still bruised…"

"Barely. Come on, man, I've forgotten what fresh air smells like." He carefully didn't mention Thawne or the incident itself. He'd tried to wheedle a trip out of the apartment two days ago, only to shoot himself in the foot. He'd planned it out so carefully this time. It was just drinks at their usual bar and it was good for Barry too, because he hadn't really been socializing much in the last week and his therapist said that was important. Win win.

Besides, if it didn't work, he was sneaking out tomorrow. Maybe. Probably not. He couldn't stand the idea of how worried Barry would be, but he was going to think about it. Out loud.

Barry's shoulder slumped and Cisco pumped his fist triumphantly. "Yes!"

"Just a few drinks?"

"You won't regret it, man, I promise."

 _ **…at the bar**_

Barry was regretting it, deeply, deeply regretting it. The kind of regret that made him want to walk over and take Cisco by the arm and drag him away from the trampy blonde he was talking to. She was all smiles with her badly dyed hair and tight dress and Cisco was clearly nervous, but when he'd grabbed Barry by the shoulder of his jacket and whispered, "You have to give me this. People like her do not go for guys like me," he'd given in.

It shouldn't be that hard. Cisco was an adult. He was more then capable of taking care of himself. Barry was painfully aware that, of the two of them, he was the one that needed taking care of, not Cisco. So, why did it feel so... wrong when she'd leaned in and kissed him? Why did it make Barry want to do something. He wasn't even sure what, just something.

The problem wasn't even just the woman, though. It was more then that. Ever since Barry had woken up at S.T.A.R. Labs, Cisco had been there for him. Anytime, anywhere, anything and he'd never complained, not once. He didn't even really seem put out. They'd never talked about what Cisco did with his free time before, but Barry kind of assumed video games and Netflix just about summed it up. There was certainly never a discussion about picking up chicks or ex-girlfriends or dating or anything like that. Seeing him with this girl, though? Maybe Cisco had given up more than Barry realized.

He dropped his head to the bar and fumbled for his phone in his pocket, calling Caitlin.

"Barry, are you okay?"

"No." He glanced over at the table and at least now they were only talking, although she was laying the eyelashes on a bit thick.

"What's wrong? Did something happen? I can be at the lab in…"

"No, no, not… nothing like that. Cisco convinced me to go out to a bar with him."

She was silent for several seconds. "Okay, but that's good. You guys have barely left the house all week."

"He's talking to a girl."

This time the pause was a little shorter, but no less significant and followed by a sympathetic, "Oh, Barry."

"She kissed him. I should leave, right? That's the normal, mature thing to do. He's an adult – kind of – and I should walk away and let him have this."

"You should?"

"I don't want to." It sounded childish and petulant when he said it out loud, so he took a deep breath, sat up and decided he was going to do the mature thing. "I'm going to leave. It's just a girl. He'll be fine."

Caitlin laughed softly on the other end. "Why don't you come over here? I'm missing Ronnie and I could use the company."

"What are you doing?"

"Drinking wine and eating Strawberry ice cream." As if she could see his raised eyebrows of judgment, she added, "They were out of decent looking real strawberries."

He glanced over at Cisco again and the woman was leaning in, listening to him with too-intent eyes and a too-bright smile. "I'll be right there."

Hanging up the phone, Barry walked across the bar, determined. He put a hand on Cisco's shoulder and gave the tramp – woman, she was just a woman, he didn't even know her – a reassuring smile. "Hey, I'm heading out."

Cisco's enthusiasm faltered. "You sure?"

"I'm gonna go help Caitlin eat a couple gallons of ice cream."

He started to leave, but Cisco was off the chair and following him before he'd gotten half way to the exit. "Hey, if you want to leave, we can leave."

Barry hesitated, but as much as he wanted to take him up on that, he couldn't. "No, I'm good. Have fun."

He didn't wait for any more arguments, especially since it looked like Cisco was actually going to offer them. He needed to pick up some ice cream and run over to Caitlin's before he changed his mind.

* * *

 _ **…at the West family home**_

Iris spent considerably less time deciding how to confront her dad about Barry. As much as she would have liked to say it was because she knew him well enough to know how to handle it, the truth was, she was simply too upset to really think about it. So, after shopping and dinner with Felicity, she slept through the six hour train ride and managed to stop at home for a shower and a change of clothes before heading to her dad's place just in time to catch him at breakfast.

She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, staring him down silently while he drank his coffee, ate a donut, and started to get a second cup ready. "We need to talk."

"I figured as much when you stormed in here."

"It's about Barry." There was immediate tension in his shoulders, but he didn't say anything. "I know, Dad. I know that Barry's the Flash."

He drank his coffee, slow and deliberate before putting it down. "He told you?"

"No. Kind of. He was asleep at the time."

"Ah." He stood a little straighter.

"When were you going to tell me? Were you _ever_ going to tell me?"

She was almost angrier that he had to think about it for a full minute, than his response of, "I was trying to keep you safe."

"No, you wore that card out with the police academy and did it ever occur to you that I might be safer if I knew what was going on? I can't protect myself against something that I don't know is there, dad. And putting Barry in the middle of this? That's low, even for you."

He sighed, but didn't necessarily back down. "This has been… a lot, honey, and I am doing the best I know how. I didn't put Barry in the middle of anything. I told him that I thought it was better to keep you in the dark for now and he agreed."

"Did he?" She didn't bother to hide the skepticism. "Because the Barry that I know would do anything for your approval."

"That's not true."

"Really? Dad, despite all the progress he's made, there are times when he's still that sixteen year old boy, just looking for approval from the adults around him. Trying to get someone to tell him he's doing the right thing. Especially you." Finally, he had the decency to look chagrined. It was a start. "I know you meant well, but lying to me is not the way to go about it. Tell me the truth and trust me to do the right thing."

"Honey, I'm not going to stop worrying about you, just because you've gone and grown up on me."

"You're allowed to worry, just give me a chance to…" she was interrupted by her phone singing from her back pocket and took a quick glance at the name on the display. It was Barry. "Hold that thought."

The dining room gave her the illusion of privacy. She wasn't doing this over the phone, but she'd left a message earlier to call back and arrange a time and place to meet up – somewhere private, where he'd feel safe. "Barry, hey."

"It's Caitlin."

Iris checked the display again. It definitely said Barry. "Caitlin, what are you doing with Barry's phone?"

"He fell asleep on my couch last night. Did you need something? I can wake him up."

"No, I just needed to talk to him at some point today." Actually… "Are you both heading up to S.T.A.R. Labs later?"

"Much, much later. After last night, I'm going to need some aspirin and a very long, hot shower."

And really, what was Iris supposed to say about that? "...okay."

"What? No!" There was the sound of feet running as Caitlin apparently left whatever room she was in and the muffled thud of a door closing softly. "That would be… unprofessional. I was missing Ronnie and Cisco was with some girl at a bar last night. Barry came over, we watched romantic comedies, I got drunk, I'm pretty sure Barry put himself into a sugar coma with three half gallons of ice cream. That's it."

"Cisco was with a girl? I thought he…"

"No, I know, and he does, but later. There are little African men playing bongo drums in my head right now. We'll be in around noon, don't come early or you'll run into Hartley."

"Who's Hartley?"

"Later."

Her dad was waiting in the door when she turned around. Most of her initial anger had fled. She'd said what she wanted to. With her dad, it was better to let him stew in it for a few hours or days, before bringing it back up. "I'm telling Barry I know."

He held up his hands. "I'll leave it to you. Just don't be too hard on him."

"It's not him I'm mad at."

* * *

 _ **…at S.T.A.R. Labs**_

When they finally made it in, Hartley spent half an hour complaining about work ethics, even after Barry reminded him that they didn't actually have that much work to do. As far as he was aware, there were no forces of evil wreaking havoc in Central City. Yet. When he inquired about Cisco, Barry responded with, "He was with a girl last night. I'm trying to give him space."

Hartley looked over from his computer screen, intrigued. "Really? With a girl? But I thought he…"

A bag of pastries from Jitters fell in his lap, courtesy of Caitlin, who finally pulled off the sunglasses she'd been wearing all morning. Barry tried to read the meaningful look between them, but came up blank. Apparently, Hartley got it, though, because he took the bag and shut up. As confused as he was, Barry wasn't arguing with the results.

They ate in companionable silence, which was not a word he ever would have associated with Hartley, but there it was. Hartley could be companionable – when he kept his mouth shut.

Iris made her appearance just as the last cream cheese filled pastry found its way into Barry's mouth. Caitlin took over the introductions, which went about as well as Barry could have hoped.

"Hartley, Iris West. Iris, Hartley Rathaway."

"Iris West? Ah, yes, the future Mrs. West-Allen."

Iris went several shades of red, cutting glances between Barry, who was choking on his pastry and Hartley, who was grinning not unlike the Cheshire Cat. "That is… no, I am not… why would you think that?"

"Ignore him, we all do." Caitlin gave Barry a pat on the back, satisfied that he was able to breathe.

Barry gave one last, particularly violent cough and managed to stand straight. Considering how warm his face felt, he was pretty sure his blush rivaled hers, but that would have to wait. "So, Caitlin said you wanted to talk?"

She looked at the room's other occupants and back to Barry. "Could we go somewhere a little more private?"

He nodded, but before they could head out, his phone rang. "Sorry, it's your dad. Joe, what's up? Wait, Cold is back? But… yeah, no, obviously, I'll… Okay."

He hung up and looked at Iris. This so wasn't the right time. He had to find a way to get her out of the lab so he could change into his Flash suit. With a mob war at stake, he had to hurry, he had to…

"Barry, calm down, I know."

He hadn't realized he wasn't calm, but actually, his chest did feel a little tight. Still, what she'd said didn't make any sense. "About Snart? How did you…?"

"About you being the Flash."

Barry's mind went blank. "Oh god."

"It's okay. I already talked to my dad. He knows I know."

"But…" He looked to Caitlin for support, but she shrugged. "I don't…"

Iris shook her head firmly. "We'll talk when you get back, but if you need to go, go."

As much as he wanted to argue with her, or maybe just find out how the hell she knew and who told her, he really didn't have the time. With a nod in agreement, he rushed over, slid open the door his suit was behind, put it on and ran out the door.

* * *

 _ **...in Cisco's lab**_

It wasn't even that Cisco had fallen for Lisa's ruse, that was just one more drop in the bucket of how naïve he was. Cisco didn't like to think of himself that way, but it was either that or desperate, so he was sticking with naïve. He couldn't even say it was that he'd gotten kidnapped again, because as a member of team Flash, he was a target. Cold had made that clear when he kidnapped Caitlin that one time.

The problem was that he'd had to make a decision between keeping Barry's identity a secret or watching his brother die and as much as he cared about Barry, as much as he loved him, he couldn't let Cold do that to Dante. His brother had picked on him his whole life, belittled him, looked down on him, apparently even stolen the girl Cisco had a mad crush on, but that didn't matter, because in the end, he couldn't sit there and watch someone being tortured if he could stop it.

Worse then that, was that Cold could have gotten some random person off the street and Cisco was pretty sure he still would have given in. Caitlin was all cool logic and if it came down to it, any decision she made would be based on facts. Barry would die fighting to protect everyone. Hartley would have done whatever was in his best interest, which, at least for the moment, included staying in Barry's good graces. Out of all of them, Cisco was the weak link.

The problem was that now Cold knew that and if he ever needed anything else, he'd know exactly where to go. Cisco stared down at his tools, neatly sorted and arranged and imagined packing them up and walking out. He wouldn't do it. All other arguments aside, Barry needed him and he wasn't going to walk away from that, but it was still… it hurt.

When a knock sounded against the open door behind him, he didn't need to turn to know who it was. "Barry, I'm sorry, man, but now… now isn't a good time."

"I'm just making sure your still here - haven't gotten kidnapped by any more bad guys in the last five minutes."

"I'm pretty sure I'm safe in…" S.T.A.R. Labs, which was exactly where he'd been last time. He dropped his head down onto his tool chest.

Barry chuckled in a decidedly smug fashion. "You were saying?"

"Not cool, man."

Cisco turned his head, but Barry's smile wasn't as playful as he'd expected. It was kind of sad, a little concerned and when he spoke, it was soft and desperate. "You can't leave."

 _Damn it._ "I'm not leaving. I'm not, I just… I don't want to be the one to put you in jeopardy. Not again."

"You didn't."

"But Cold knows who you are now." Cisco's stomach sank at the realization. "I've put _everyone_ at risk. Not just you, but Joe and Iris and…"

"You didn't do that, Snart did. He put you in that position and I'll deal with him."

And there was something in the way he said it. It took Cisco a minute and he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it before. Maybe it was Barry fussing over him constantly that had made it harder to see, but there was a confidence in him that hadn't been there the last time Cisco really looked. Not Oliver-Queen–if-you-don't-tell-me-what-I-want-to-know-I'll-shoot-you-full-of-arrows-and-pull-your-intestines-out-of-your-esophagus confident, but still. He was standing straighter, not nearly as pulled into himself as he usually was, he was meeting Cisco's gaze a little nervously, but not shying away from the scrutiny. Even the way he'd spoken, too soft to be forceful, but without wavering.

Something had changed and Cisco wasn't even sure when it had happened or why.

Just as firmly, Barry added, "You didn't do anything wrong. You did exactly the right thing."

Barry looked at the floor for a second, but it wasn't the same. He wasn't flinching at his own words or accusations, because when he looked up, he was just as serious as before.

"You said if it was you, they could have killed you, but it was your brother and I get that. That's who you are. You would sacrifice everything for someone else, even someone who tormented you your entire childhood, but I can't… I don't want you sacrificing yourself for _me_. I'm not okay with that."

The distance between them was at least ten feet, but it felt like inches. Barry was staring at him intently, focusing after a moment to one side of Cisco's face and the dark bruise forming there, but before either of them could say anything else, Caitlin's voice interrupted over the intercom. "Guys, you should get up here."

* * *

 _ **…in the cortex**_

Iris huddled over Caitlin at the computer, watching the red dot on the map move as Barry ran through and out of the city on the interstate. "So the suit tracks him?"

Cisco jumped in excitedly. "And monitors his vitals and allows us to communicate."

She raised an eyebrow. "So we can hear everything he says?"

"And talk to him if we need to, as long as he doesn't take the hood off." The dot stopped moving in the woods several miles outside the city and was followed by a soft beep from the computer. "And he took the hood off. Why do I even bother?"

A voice Iris didn't recognize sounded over the speaker, slow and deliberate. _"Good to see you, Barry."_

Caitlin stiffened. "He's got Snart."

 _"We have to talk. I know Cisco told you who I am."_

 _"Can't really blame the kid for giving you up. Come on, you or his brother? I put him in a tight spot."_ Iris glanced at Cisco, who was glaring daggers at the screen. _"Same kind I got you in right now. Can't really stop me now that I know who you are."_

 _"I could speed you to my own private prison where you'll never see the light of day."_

Cisco's anger melted into shock and she watched him turn to Caitlin, who had an equally wide eyed expression. "Did he just…?"

"He did."

"Empty threat?"

"Has to be, Barry would never…"

Hartley turned to them with a sharp, "Do you mind?"

 _"…uplink that'll broadcast your identity to the world. So, the million dollar question. What to do with me now, Barry Allen?"_

 _"I won't let you keep stealing whatever you want, whenever you feel like it. It needs to end."_

 _"Can't do that. It's what I do."_

 _"Then find a new line of work."_

 _"Don't want to."_

Iris frowned at the back and forth. "Is Snart always that deliberately annoying?"

The answer of, "Yes," came from both Caitlin and Cisco.

 _"Why's that?"_

 _"The same reason you keep going after guys like me – the adrenaline, the thrill of the chase. I love this game and I'm very good at it."_

 _"Then go play it somewhere else. Leave Central City."_

 _"Can't do that, either. I love it here. This city is my home."_

 _"You've seen what I can do. You know that I can stop you. You want to keep pushing your luck, go for it, but from here on out, no one else dies. If you're as good as you say you are you don't have to kill anyone to get what you want."_

Cisco looked dumbfounded. "Is he really making a deal with Captain Cold?"

 _"That's true."_

Caitlin raised her eyebrows. "And Cold is considering it."

 _"And if you, or anyone in your… Rogues Gallery goes near any of my friends or family again. I don't care who you tell my identity to, I'm putting you away."_

 _"I guess your secrets safe, Flash. For now."_

Iris wasn't sure what to make of any of this. "I take it that's not normal?"

Caitlin chewed her lip thoughtfully. "We don't usually negotiate with the bad guys, but then Snart isn't giving him a lot of options."

She could see that. "So, what did Barry mean by a private prison?"

Cisco cringed. "It's a, uh… the Pipeline, where we put the bad metas. Don't worry, it's exactly as bad as it sounds. We're working on it."

Before she could ask what the hell that meant, there was a loud crack that sounded suspiciously like a fist hitting someone's face. Hard. Caitlin sat up straighter in her seat. "Barry's vitals spiked."

Cisco pushed his chair over to her monitor. "Did Cold hit him?"

Except it wasn't Barry's voice that said, _"You punched my nose!"_ indignant, muffled, and nasally.

It was, however, Barry that responded, _"You took my Cisco! Or… not… it… you took Cisco."_

All eyes turned to Cisco, who held his hands up defensively.

 _Snart's chuckle was still muffled by what was probably a hand held up to his face and a little pained. "Lisa will be disappointed. I don't suppose you'd give me a ride back to town, would you?"_

The computer beeped again, and this time Iris noticed a microphone icon in the lower right hand corner light up. Cisco shoved his chair back to his own station where the dot that was Barry was making its way back into the city. "We've got incoming."

Caitlin rushed to shove a hand on top of a stack of papers, which was a little confusing until a gust of wind blew by. Iris just managed to hold her skirt down. When the wind settled, she turned around to find Barry standing several feet behind her, hood down, one hand curled protectively around his fist, his face tinged pink.

He managed a shy smile that turned into a cringe when he rubbed his hand. "I think it's broken."

Caitlin sighed as she made her way over and helped him take off the glove with a lot of flinching, then assessed the damage. "Your index finger looks bad. Let's get an x-ray and set it so it can heal."

Ten minutes later he was dressed in jeans and a S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt, Caitlin was finishing up the gauze wrap while Cisco sat on the bed beside him. They were practically knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder, Barry with one of Cisco's tootsie roll pops in his mouth, grinning at something the other man was saying too low for her hear from the door. She didn't miss the way Barry's eyes kept moving over to the bruise on the side of Cisco's face before looking down again.

When Cisco saw Iris standing in the doorway, the playful smile dropped instantly. "Yo, Caitlin, come on."

"What?"

"We've got that thing." She didn't move, so he nodded at the door. "You know, that _thing_."

"What?" She turned, seeing Iris. "Right! We'll just be… out there doing… something."

Caitlin gave Barry's knee a sympathetic pat before she left and Iris closing the door behind her. Barry tossed the candy into the nearby trash, he looked to the ceiling, the wall, his injured hand cradled in the other, anywhere but her. She gave it a moment before sitting down besides him.

When he still didn't make eye contact, she asked, "How's the hand?"

"Huh? Oh, it's," he flexed the wrist a little, "better. I fractured the index finger and the second metacarpal, but I heal fast; like, really fast, actually. It's part of being the Flash. I'll be good in a few hours."

She took the opening. "Speaking of, you're the Flash."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I wanted to tell you, but… Hey, how do you know, anyway?"

"You told me."

"I what?!" Barry looked appropriately horrified and if she'd had any doubts her dad's influence had something to do with him not telling her, it quelled them.

"In your sleep. Something about kittens and pogo sticks, I never did quite get the whole story. Although, the Russo's from Starling City didn't help your case."

He pressed his good hand to the bed beside him and dropped his head with a groan. "I can't believe I did that."

"Cisco didn't tell you that you still talk in your sleep?"

"No, he told me, but it's usually harmless." He looked at her sheepishly out of the corner of one eye. "I apparently had a twenty minute argument with him over whether teal was blue or green the other day. Otherwise, it's nightmares from… Anyway, being the Flash never really enters into it. Not that I know of and I think he would have told me."

She believed him on that, too. Cisco had been good for him, was still good for him. "Just so we're clear, teal is both blue _and_ green."

He rolled his eyes, looking back down. "Yeah, I know that now. Three in the morning when I'm having a dream about being an interior decorator is another matter entirely and Cisco wasn't helping. He admits to egging it on."

Which she couldn't really blame him for, especially seeing as she'd been doing the same thing since Barry moved in with them at eleven. If anything, the fact Barry knew about it, made her like Cisco a little more.

It got quiet again and she clucked her tongue thoughtfully. "So, Iris West-Allen?"

Barry's face went that adorable shade of pink as he shook his head. "Oh, no, that is a conversation to be had with food. Lots and lots of food. And moral support. Hunan Panda okay with you?"

"Definitely."


	9. The Hart of the Matter

**Summary:** Finally.

* * *

 **The Hart of the Matter**

"I'm just saying, he's overreacting."

Caitlin set her tablet down, exasperated. "Well, I don't know what you expected, Cisco. You were kidnapped by the Reverse-Flash, nearly killed – it was a week before you didn't sound like a dying frog – and then, when you finally convinced him you were okay, he takes you out for drinks and you go home with Lisa Snart and get kidnapped _again_ , this time by Captain Cold and come back with a black eye and rope burn. Not to mention what he did to your brother. So, no, Cisco, I don't think he's overreacting. He being…"

From several feet away, Hartley's amused voice chimes in with, "Protective?"

Caitlin ignored him. "Cautious."

"I was in the bathroom."

"Yes, but…"

"In our apartment. He was sitting five feet away. Even if I'd fallen and hit my head, he would have heard."

She sighed. "Well then, I suppose you'll just have to take quicker showers. Besides, what were you doing in there for thirty minutes, anyway?"

Cisco blushed, but it was Hartley's snicker that really clued her in. Hartley didn't laugh and he definitely didn't snicker, not unless it was something lewd, which meant... "Oh, Cisco, really? With Barry right there?"

Hartley didn't look up from the book he'd been reading to say, "Maybe that was the problem."

Cisco's blush deepened and he turned on Hartley, who had wisely chosen to sit well outside of striking distance. "No one asked you and what are you still doing here, anyway?"

Caitlin put a reassuring hand on Cisco's shoulder. "Ignore him, Cisco. He's just trying to get a rise out of you."

Hartley outright chuckled. "Sounds like Barry has that covered."

Caitlin used her most authoritative voice. "Hartley, out."

Hartley raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed, but shrugged and went anyway, just into the side lab, which wasn't far enough.

Cisco glared at him until the glass door had slid closed. "Seriously, Caitlin, why is he still here?"

"You know why he's here."

Right, because he'd saved Cisco's life, or helped save it, depending on whom you asked. Barry insisted they couldn't have managed it without him, while Caitlin was equally certain they would have been fine. They both agreed, however, that without him they may never have found Cisco in the first place and certainly not anytime soon, so they owed him and his price had been protection.

"Yeah, but how is staying here helping him? Why don't we just… contact Felicity, have her make him a fake ID." His face lit up. "Or, we could ship him off to Lian Yu. He'd be really safe in Oliver's secret island prison."

"Cisco…"

"I know." He did, really, it was just hard to be grateful when it was Hartley's fault he'd been kidnapped in the first place, which brought him back to where the conversation had been going before Hartley's interruptions. "Look, the point is, you were kidnapped and nearly killed by Captain Cold, too, and Barry was fine with it. Well, okay, he wasn't fine, but he didn't overreact. He was rational. This isn't rational. You're his doctor, say something to him."

"I did."

Cisco's desperation faltered. "What did he say?"

"He said you've been having nightmares. He said you space out and when he tries to get your attention, he can't. He said you come out of it looking pale and, in his words, twitchy. He said you flinch every time a phone rings. He said he's worried about you."

And that? That was totally unfair. Barry wasn't supposed to notice that, any of it.

"He's worried that you didn't tell us everything Thawne did to you." Cisco slumped in his seat and said the kind of word he normally reserved for when he banged his little toe on the coffee table at three in the morning. Caitlin gasped, "Cisco!"

"Sorry, it's just… nothing happened. Nothing else, anyway."

"Good, but I'm not the one you need to convince."

He nodded, more to himself. "I'm gonna go patch my suit."

Caitlin watched him leave and was surprised Hartley waited a whole thirty seconds before coming back. His face was firmly set in disbelief as he stood looking at the door Cisco had walked out of. "Is he really that clueless?"

She smiled fondly. "Which one?"

"…That is possibly the most pathetic thing I have seen all year and I have seen some truly pathetic things."

"It's sweet." She turned back to her computer. "Help me run the statistics from Barry's latest scans."

He sneered, but sat at what was quickly becoming his computer. Cisco may hate having Hartley there, but he'd been instrumental in saving Barry's dad and as intolerable as he was at times, she could forgive his personality if he made himself useful.

"It's not sweet. It's like those sickening posters of children wearing oversized clothes, giving each other flowers, except they're grown men."

She just managed not to laugh at that, but only because she wouldn't want to encourage him. "As opposed to what, pulling each other's hair to get attention?"

Hartley glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure, you don't."

* * *

Barry sat at the table while Iris got them coffee. Of all the things he'd been learned in the past three months, socializing was by far the hardest. Being in a crowd, out in the open, with strangers on every side of him, people behind him that he couldn't see, passing in his peripheral, looking at him, smiling at him, it had all been too much, nearly sending him into a panic attack the first time he'd gone out.

Since then, they'd worked with him – Iris, Cisco, Caitlin, Joe, even Dr. Wells a few times, despite his status as the city pariah. They took it in turns to go with him, short trips at first, picking up lunch or coffee, then longer ones, like actually sitting down somewhere to eat or shopping for clothes. He'd started expanding that to trying other things adults his age were supposed to do, like clubs and bars. He'd let Iris drag him to a movie. It had been difficult and there were times he really wished he could get drunk to take the edge off, but like everything else, he'd managed.

Unfortunately, some days were harder than others. The last two weeks, in fact, ever since Dr. Wells had been exposed as the the Reverse-Flash, had been hard, but he was determined to get through it without worrying anyone. So when Iris had called and asked if they could meet for coffee, he'd agreed and he couldn't back out now, not without her getting suspicious. The best thing for it was to focus on something else. However, there was only one other thing he could think about and that wasn't helping his resolve to stay.

He fidgeted nervously, then pulled his phone out and put it on the table. She'd just started ordering, so he picked it up to dial Cisco, then stopped himself. This was the first time in over a week that he'd left Cisco alone for any significant amount of time and maybe he was being irrational, but Cisco had…

"Hey." He blinked to see Iris sitting across from him, mug in her small, capable hands. His was just in front of him, steaming and suddenly smelling nothing short of amazing. "So, what are we brooding about today?"

He laughed and ducked his head, embarrassed at being caught. "It is that obvious?"

"I've been sitting here for two minutes."

"Right, sorry, I'm worried about Cisco."

"I know."

"You do?" He wrapped his hands around his mug, letting its warmth seep into them.

"I'm pretty sure everyone knows, Barry. He'll be fine. I highly doubt he gets kidnapped in the next half hour." Barry's lip twitched up and then spread into a smile. "And if he does, it'll give you an excuse to chain him to the bed."

His smile dropped and she flinched. "Sorry, I didn't mean..."

"No, not…" he willed away the deep pit of anxiety that had started to build in his gut. "I'm fine. Really. So, how's living with Eddie?"

She took the change of topic gratefully. "Good, it's… great."

"You hate it."

"Oh my god, I love him, Barry. I really, really love him, but the man drives me insane." Barry sipped slowly at his cooling coffee, smiling while Iris ranted about the pitfalls of living with her boyfriend. "I just thought it would be easier. I lived with you and Dad and it was easy, but with Eddie, it's different. How do you do it with Cisco?"

Barry startled at the question, mostly because him living with Cisco wasn't anything like her living with Eddie. For one thing, there hadn't been a conscious decision behind it. He'd gone over there for a few days after the Reverse-Flash threatened Iris and then… he really wasn't sure how it happened, actually. They'd liked hanging out after work, shared a lot of the same taste in movies and food, and, as Cisco had pointed out, it was really convenient when Barry had a panic attack in the middle of the night – he didn't even have to put on real pants.

"I don't think that's the same thing."

"Oh, come on, I know you, Barry. You are the world's most organized person. Even when you're on a project and things are spread out over every possible surface, it's an organized chaos and Cisco is… well, he's not. I mean, I've been to his apartment. So, how do you do it? How are you not pulling your hair out?"

He looked into his coffee and shrugged. "I don't know. It's just… easy."

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I wish it was that easy for me."

"Maybe good things are worth fighting for?"

"Oh, Barry!" She melted into a smile and patted his arm. He brushed her off with an embarrassed grin. "Thank you. You always know what to say to make me feel better. So, how are things with you?"

"Good."

"And?" When he didn't reply, she pressed. "Come on, give me something."

He looked around the café nervously. "Um, we told Dr. Rayburn the truth the other day, you know, about everything. He took it… remarkably well."

Dr. Rayburn had been a long standing affiliate of the CCPD and Joe said he trusted him implicitly. They'd gone together, Cisco in tow, because Barry needed the support, because Dr. Rayburn had been wanting to meet him, and, all of those reasons aside, because Barry had been nervous about leaving him behind. There had been a few seconds where Dr. Rayburn had been so still and quiet that Barry was sure they'd made a mistake and why hadn't they talked about a contingency plan? Technically, Dr. Rayburn was bound by the client/patient confidentiality, but that was only as good as the man himself. Just as he was really starting to worry, Dr. Rayburn took off his glasses and set them aside, saying matter of factly, "Well, that does change a few things. I wish you'd told me sooner."

Barry wasn't exactly clear on how it changed much of anything, but it felt better not having to come up with alternative explanations and outright lies.

He talked with Iris for a while longer – a little about his therapy, a lot about her job – until his phone ticked over to 9:30 and he all but jumped out of his seat. He'd promised himself half an hour. "I have to go."

"Right now?"

"Yeah, I, uh, promised I'd be back, but thanks. This was nice." He meant it, too. They hadn't even brought up the Flash or anything meta and it still felt like the most open, honest conversation he'd had with her since… well, since he was sixteen.

Best thing about Iris, she was persistent, but when it came to Barry, she knew when not to push her luck. Instead of trying to get him to stay, she simply said, "Maybe I'll swing by S.T.A.R. Labs tomorrow?"

"Sure, just let me know when."

Grabbing his coat, Barry fled out the front door of Jitters and dodged around the side of the building to a mostly secluded area. He did a quick checked to make sure no one was looking before making a dash for S.T.A.R. Labs.

He ran straight for the cortex and was surprised when he found Caitlin there alone, looking at something in her microscope.

"Hey, where is everyone?"

She looked up and around, as if realizing she was alone for the first time. "Cisco's here somewhere. Hartley's probably in Wells' office. He's determined to find the hidden files that reveal Thawne's evil plan."

"He's that bored?"

"He's that bored. Although, good news. Your scans came back normal, or, well, normal for you."

He chuckled and relaxed a little. Normal for him worked. At first, he hadn't said anything about his supposed time travel, because he wasn't sure they'd believe him, then… then he just wasn't all that sure it was real. It felt real. He could still close his eyes and see Cisco's lifelessly body, the absolute numbness of shock he'd felt when he'd woken up followed by the cold anger that still hadn't left him completely, not even weeks later, but if it was real, surely there would be something on the scans and Caitlin said everything was normal.

She put her tablet down and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't suppose now you'll tell me why you insisted I run them?"

"No, it was nothing. I've just been feeling a little off since the whole thing with Thawne."

Her expression softened. "Does this feeling off have anything to do with the way you've been stalking Cisco?"

"I have not…" She raised an eyebrow and he caved. "Okay, maybe I've been a little stalker _ish_. I'm just worried about him."

"And he's worried about you, so go find him and talk it out, because I am not getting dragged into the middle of this. I'm a horrible mediator."

Talking wasn't exactly his strongest trait, but she was right. Cisco deserved to know what was going on, if for no other reason than he'd put up with Barry for the last two weeks. "You know where he is?"

"He's patching his suit."

"Right." Barry started to walk out, but stopped and gave Caitlin a hug. "Thank you."

She hugged him back, before shoving him off lightly. "Go."

* * *

Cisco bit off another length of his Twizzler and rubbed at the tenacious stain that marred the shoulder of his suit. He should start sending bills to the bad guys, at least, the ones not currently in the pipeline – or wandering around the halls of S.T.A.R. Labs sticking their obnoxious nose into things that didn't concern them. How much could he charge Thawne for the emotional trauma of coming back and finding his computer utterly destroyed? Not that he didn't backup the hard drive, but it was the principle of the thing.

Barry's voice cut through his thoughts, soft and tentative. "Hey."

He sighed and managed a terse, "Hey," back.

"I'm sorry about this morning." Cisco tilted his head and waited for it. "And… the whole last two weeks. I've been a jerk and probably at least a little creepy following you around everywhere, watching the clock when you were in the bathroom, carrying you to work when it starting raining…"

"Go on."

Barry chuckled. "It could take a while."

"Oh, I've got time." He turned around as Barry rolled his eyes. He'd stopped to lean against the frame of the door, hands in the pockets of a short trench, legs ridiculously long in dark wash skinny jeans. He even had on one of those sweater vest things that would have made him look ultra nerdy, if it hadn't looked so good on him. They really needed to stop letting Iris dress him. It was entirely unfair to the rest of the world, but especially to Cisco.

"Seriously, though, I am sorry."

He considered dragging it out, but Barry gave him that lopsided smile he used when he was being charming and Cisco could physically feel himself caving. "Nah, man, we're cool. Anyway, I should have talked to you about the nightmares and stuff. I just didn't want to make a big deal out of nothing."

"Yeah?" Barry moved in and sat down on one of the chairs near the door, turning it around so he could rest his arms on the back. "Tell me now."

"No, it's…" Except, even if it was nothing, he kind of owed it to Barry, who had shared absolutely everything with Cisco, no matter how embarrassing or personal, and Cisco had turned around and told Wells, who turned out to be Thawne, who'd been the one to hurt Barry in the first place. "Okay, fine."

He sat down as well, chewed another end off his Twizzler before continuing. "He didn't… when I was in there he didn't hurt me much."

They'd been over this all before, with Caitlin and Barry and Joe watching him while he told them everything Thawne had said and done, but Caitlin had made it obvious Barry didn't believe him and he needed Barry to believe.

"But, um, remember when you said he gave you books on astronomy?" Barry nodded attentively. "Those were mine. When I first started here, there was this NASA thing I was pretty obsessed with. It's not important, but he asked me what I was reading and I told him how much I loved astronomy and how I had tons of books on star gazing and how to identify them and he said he'd loved to borrow them sometime."

"I don't know, it was a stupid thing to get excited about, but it was Harrison Wells and I've never gotten along with my dad and Dr. Wells was this adult, someone I looked up to, and he was treating me like I wasn't some stupid kid daydreaming about things that were never gonna happen. He really listened to me and he told me I was capable of anything and I'd never heard that before, not from anyone. So, I brought the books and then got so caught up with the accelerator and then the explosion and you that I forgot about them. Until he gave them back, in the room."

He ducked his head and Barry waited, saying nothing.

"It took me like thirty seconds to do the math. To realize the books he'd given you were probably the ones I gave him. So I, um, I threw them at his head."

"Oh. That's…"

"Yeah, that's where the, uh," Cisco ran his thumb over his cheek where the faint yellow of an almost healed bruise was barely visible. "He could have done worse. If you had done that, he would have, but he didn't. Just that one time and when the phone rang, and I was waiting for it, but… nothing and right there at the end, I kept finding myself thinking it was my fault somehow. I never should have gone down there alone, that he was right about me doing something stupid with the phone, or that I knew better than to throw the stupid books."

He swallowed around the forming lump and couldn't decide if Barry's silence was helping him talk or making it harder. Probably both.

"And I'd stop myself, but… but I have these dreams where I start to, I don't know, sympathize with him and I agree to help him with you and I wake up sick to my stomach, because nothing excuses what he did to you. Nothing. And it's just a stupid dream but I feel so guilty for even thinking it."

Cisco looked up at Barry, expecting disgust or recrimination, but getting neither. Instead, Barry said, "I get it."

"You do?"

"It's not that hard to understand. There was a while there where I would have done anything. Anything. I didn't care, I just wanted out. If he'd told me to strap a bomb to my chest and walk into a crowded mall, I would have seriously considered it. I like to think I wouldn't have gone through with it, but to be honest? I don't really know."

"Yeah, but…"

"No, he was your friend and you loved him and a part of you still loves the lie and I get that." Barry looked at the floor for second before looking up with a tentative smile. "Thank you for telling me."

Cisco shook his head and took another bite of his Twizzler. "Oh, no, that's not even the worst one. The worst one is when he kills me."

"He what?"

"He kills me? He does the whole evil count down and when you lunge, he, you know, Kali Ma, temple of doom." He crossed his arms over his chest and shuddered, but when he looked up, Barry's face was pale and tight. "Hey, man, are you okay? It was just a dream, dude."

"No. No, it wasn't."

* * *

Caitlin eyed him skeptically. "So, you're saying, you think you… went back in time?"

Barry closed his eyes with a sigh. "I know. I know how it sounds, but is it possible?"

They looked at Cisco, who shook his head. "Oh, that's… theoretically?"

Hartley scoffed. "Theoretically, anything is possible. We'd have to run calculations, scenarios."

Cisco gave Hartley a side glance at the use of 'we' because they hadn't exactly announced the meeting over the intercom, yet somehow, Hartley had shown up, looking for all the world like he was meant to be there. It wasn't the first time, either, and if he kept showing up like that, Cisco was going to suspect the explosion had done a little more then damage his hearing.

Barry ran a hand over his face. "Okay, but, it's possible?"

Caitlin bit her lip thoughtfully. "Your scans were normal."

"It's been weeks. I knew it was a long shot having you run them, it was just… being the only one remembering made it feel like a bad dream. And really? That's what I was trying to convince myself of. That it wasn't real."

Being in the room with the Reverse-Flash holding him back from Cisco's body. His _body_. He hadn't wanted that to be real.

Cisco took a deep breath, a little shakier then the one he'd taken when Barry first told them. "Okay, so, let's say you did go back in time? How?"

"I don't really know? Mark Mardon…"

"The guy you caught on a 'hunch'?"

"Yeah, him."

His 'hunch' had been an obvious lie. To have a hunch, you had to have some kind of clue that something was going on in the first place. Really, he'd just been so relieved to have Cisco back alive that he'd forgotten about Mardon until Joe had called and then he'd rushed over to get him before he could do anything. Thankfully, there hadn't been many apartment complexes on Regis.

"He kidnapped Joe and created a tidal wave that was headed for Central City. Caitlin said if I ran fast enough I could stop it, so I ran. I kept thinking I couldn't lose anyone else. I couldn't do that again and then suddenly I was running down the street with Caitlin in my ear saying Wells had left for the night."

The silence around the room was stifling and Barry looked around, trying to read the others. Hartley looked thoughtful. Cisco looked a little confused. Caitlin, however, was nodding to herself. "Well, that would explain…"

She stopped and looked at Barry cautiously. "When you came back from your run, you were acting strangely and then you were so sure Hartley was telling the truth, I didn't understand why you'd believe him."

Hartley rolled his eyes, but it was Barry spoke in defense, though it was mostly of himself. "I knew he was telling the truth the first time, Caitlin. I can't explain it. I just knew."

There was still skepticism there, but Barry wasn't going to go into more detail then that. Second only to having Cisco back alive, was his relief that no one but himself remembered how hard it had been that first time. Finding out about Wells and where the room was, being physically ill over it. The way he'd broken down when Cisco died.

Cisco ran his hands through his hair and hopped off the desk he'd been sitting in. "Well, as the person who just found out I died, I think I need a few minutes. Alone."

Barry watched him leave with sagging shoulders and Caitlin moved to stand next to him. "Give him ten, fifteen minutes to wallow in self pity, then chase him down. We'll take him out and get him drunk."

Barry raised an eyebrow. "How drunk?"

She thought about it. "Drunk enough he'll have bigger, more painful things to worry about in the morning."

"Are we talking karaoke drunk?"

She pointed her pen at him in warning. "Watch yourself there, Mr. Allen."

He raised his hands and Hartley sneered at the camaraderie, getting up from his seat. "I'll be anywhere else."

Barry waited until Hartley was gone before speaking, "Do you mind if I…?"

She nodded knowingly and sighed as he disappeared out the door, going the other way. Something was going to have to give eventually, she just wasn't sure what. Or who.

* * *

Cisco heard the sharp click of Hartley's expensive shoes on the floor less then five minutes after seeking the solitude of his lab. To get to the exit, he would have to pass the reason he was running in the first place, so instead he focused on the circuit board in front of him. Hartley stopped in the doorway and waited, saying nothing, but Cisco could feel eyes staring at his back.

Without looking up, he sighed out, "What?"

"You're awfully moody for someone who just found out he narrowly avoided his own demise."

Don't look, if he looked, Hartley would know he was getting to him. "Yeah, except I didn't avoid it, I still remember everything and if you're fishing for an apology, you can forget it."

Despite knowing better, he set the screw driver and tweezers aside and turned to face the smug bastard leaning against the door frame. How was it that Barry could stand in that exact same way and come off charming, while Hartley just looked even more like a dick?

Hartley's mouth twitched up in a smile. "I was looking for more of a thank you."

"Thank you? For what? Getting me locked up in the first place?"

"Oh, please." Hartley crossed his arms over his chest. "I had no idea you'd be that reckless." He moved his eyes up and down Cisco. "You're smarter then that, Cisco, but you're naive. It's always been your weakness."

"At least my weakness isn't being a self-righteous ass. You could have gotten me killed. You _did_ get me killed."

"I didn't get you killed, Barry did. He tried to save you on his own and failed. I helped and you lived. Ergo, Barry got you killed, I saved your life." Hartley moved across the room, leaning on Cisco's desk like he had a right to be there. "You're welcome."

Cisco stood, the position giving him a slight height advantage. "Again, my life wouldn't have been in danger if it wasn't for you."

"We could do this all night, or…" Hartley raised an eyebrow and reached a hand out, tugging Cisco's hair just hard enough to hurt.

Cisco pulled back, more then a little confused. He got what Hartley was implying, they'd been there before, but the hair pulling? Something in the way Hartley smiled said it was a joke, but Cisco wasn't getting it. "You know what, Hartley? I'm not in the mood."

He started to turn, but a hand on his arm stopped him and pulled him around into a teeth clashing kiss that left a faint taste of blood in his mouth. At first, Cisco didn't move to reciprocate, because he wasn't interested, not after… Hartley's tongue swept over his lips and he opened his mouth automatically. Okay, he was a little interested. It had been months since he'd gotten laid. More then a year. As in, before the particle accelerator exploded. As in, the last person he had sex with was actually sitting in front of him right now, which was not something he let himself think about.

He didn't let himself think now, either, as he grabbed the back of Hartley's head and deepening the kiss, taking control of it. He hated this. Hated the way Hartley could get under his skin and wind him up.

Cisco pulled back, breaking the kiss long enough to say, "Just to be clear, it's still your fault. This is not an apology and it sure as hell isn't a thank you."

Hartley smirked and shoved Cisco's t-shirt up enough to get at the buckle of his red pants and use it to pull Cisco more firmly against him. "Duly noted."

* * *

The ride down was agonizingly slow, or maybe that was just the anticipation. Barry had been down several times since rescuing Cisco. It wasn't necessarily any easier this time, but unlike the first time, he wasn't shaking so hard he vibrated. The hall itself felt narrower then the ones upstairs, the lights dimmer, but he was pretty sure that was in his head. Mostly sure.

He sat on the floor, back against the solid wall across from the panel that he knew opened into the Reverse-Flash's secret rooms. According to Caitlin, this was part of Phase One of the building. Phase Two would have started the day after Barry was taken. There hadn't been much in the way of staff back then – just a few scientists working alongside Wells and even then, this area had been storage.

It still felt surreal. The room being in the middle of the city, only twenty minutes from his home, in a building that had, at one time, had hundreds of people in it.

Barry started to pull his legs into his chest and stopped himself.

 _It's the little fights you win that keep you sane._

He could win this one. As much as he wanted to run from S.T.A.R. Labs and never look back, he wouldn't. If he had to come down there every day and stare at that door to remind himself that being in this place wasn't the same as being in there, that was exactly what he would do. Of course, that didn't mean it was going to be easy, but this was where his friends were, it was where he needed to be, and he would fight for that. Thawne couldn't take that away from him, he wouldn't let him.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he thumbed on the screen to check the time. Five minutes.

He'd always thought knowing who had hurt him would make it better somehow, but it hadn't. He'd thought there would be answers, but there weren't any. He still didn't know why. Thawne had said he hated Barry, but he'd never said why and the truth was, it didn't matter. Knowing why wasn't going to make him feel any better than knowing who.

Dr. Rayburn said it was progress. Barry was angry, which was understandable, and, given the situation, anger was a far healthier response the denial. Barry had fought that title hard, right up until he'd moved past it. It wasn't that he was denying anything had happened; it was that he was denying himself the time to think about it, to process it. He'd done anything and everything he could to avoid it and just like Joe had warned him, it had come back to bite him in the ass.

When he closed his eyes, he could feel eyes on him like cameras. Wells' eyes that watched intently. Wells' hand on Barry's leg and it was in the same place, the _exact same place_ the Reverse-Flash had. Wells' fingers spread across his thigh, just above the knee, the same way, but without the vibration; without the painful tightness of an actual grip.

He should have known, couldn't have known. Joe and his dad were always telling him to trust his instincts and he hadn't. No matter how comfortable he'd become around everyone else, he'd never quite been comfortable with Wells. Actually, Dr. Rayburn postulated that his abductor being there, even without him consciously knowing, had impeded his recovery. Barry secretly suspected Thawne might have been doing it on purpose.

Barry dropped his chin to his chest, still fighting the urge to curl up.

He could hear Wells' voice telling him to run and it was the way he'd said it. _Run, Barry, run._ The first time Wells had said that on the tarmac the day after Barry woke up, he'd heard those words and the lightning speed had shot through him, forcing him to move with it. He hadn't even realized it was Wells that had spoken at first. It got confused with the voice in his head, but that was just him being a little extra crazy and who wouldn't be? Barry was due a little extra crazy and that wasn't Dr. Wells' fault, except it was and now that he knew that, he realized that no one else's voice ever got confused with that one. Even in panic attacks, Joe was Joe and Iris was Iris, he just couldn't convince himself they were real. Wells was the only person whose voice ever got muddled with that one, because they were the same person.

Even S.T.A.R. Labs itself had reminded him of the room.

He checked his phone again. Ten minutes.

If he was going to trust his instincts, though, then he needed to decide what to do about Hartley. Because he knew, in that same unexplainable place, that he couldn't trust the man, but he'd saved Cisco, so at the very least, Barry figured he owed him a chance. The question was how much of one. He already had the run of S.T.A.R. Labs, but there really wasn't anywhere else to put him. Caitlin refused to have him at her place and Barry wasn't blaming her in the least, because they sure as hell weren't taking him home with them.

S.T.A.R. Labs really was the safest place for him and probably the place where he could do the least damage as long as he didn't let the meta-humans out of containment, which Barry was pretty sure he wouldn't do and if he did… If he did, that was Hartley's get out of jail free card.

Barry used the wall to push himself up on shaky legs and stayed leaning back until he was steadier, then started down the hall. Eventually, he'd get the nerve up to actually go into the room. For now, he needed food. They could hit up somewhere on the way out, somewhere fast and cheap, Big Belly Burger or Titos. Actually, yeah, Titos sounded good. He could really go for a taco. Or twenty.

As he rounded the corner into the Cisco's lab, he punched out a text message to Caitlin, asking whether she was up for Mexican, but as he stepped into the balk, he looked up and jerked to a stop.

From what Barry could see of Hartley, which was thankfully very little, he was sitting on Cisco's desk. His button down shirt was open and shoved off his shoulders, his legs were spread to accommodate Cisco's hips. His pants appeared to be open and were pulled half down his hips, but mostly still on – thank god for small favors – and his glasses were skewed as Cisco practically devoured his mouth with one hand gripping the back of Hartley's head and the other doing something Barry didn't want to see between their bodies. Cisco was entirely shirtless, the pale brown expanse of his back completely exposed to Barry and his pants were around his thighs, just below his ass, where Hartley's fingers dug in through his plaid boxers.

If he hadn't been in shock, Barry might have had the good sense to turn around and walk away, but before he could think better of it, he'd cried, "Cisco?!"

Cisco jerked back away from Hartley, who didn't look so much embarrassed as put out by the interruption and possibly even a little amused. When Cisco turned around, his face was already a bright tomato red. "Barry?!"

He yanked his pants up hastily and dove across the room for his shirt. Hartley didn't move, not even to do up his pants, though thankfully, nothing important was hanging out. Barry seriously considered running. Out of the room. Out of S.T.A.R. Labs. To Caitlin to cry trauma, because there was no part of him that in any way needed to know Hartley wore lilac underwear with grey edging.

Hartley frowned at Barry, who hadn't managed to find his voice again yet. "You know, you could have just turned around and walked away. It would have taken ten minutes. Closer to five. It's been a while."

Cisco pointed a warning finger at Hartley on his way to the door then turned to Barry's shocked face. "Hey, man, what, uh… you need something?"

"For real?" Was he really going to pretend that didn't just happen? There was an out of breath quality to Cisco's voice and he looked too stiff to be casual, even if Barry was pretty sure that's what he was going for as he pushed his hair behind his ears.

Cisco rubbed his hands over his face and cringed. "Yeah? No. I don't know."

Barry looked everywhere but Cisco, mostly because Hartley was behind him, still sitting on the desk, watching. "I didn't even know you were…"

He waved back and Cisco looked at Hartley, his face going an even deeper red, which Barry hadn't realized was possible. "Dude, zip it up!"

Hartley shrugged, but he did zip up his pants, so there was that. Turning back to Barry, Cisco picked up where they'd left off. "I'm not. Well, not exclusively. I'm… not really good with girls. I'm not good with guys either. I kind of suck at the whole dating thing in general, so I like to keep my options open."

From behind them, Hartley laughed with a huff. Barry ignored it. "No, not that, I don't care about that. I meant _him_. I didn't know you were into Hartley."

"I'm not." Said like it was obvious, which left Barry a little confused, because maybe he didn't have a lot of experience with consensual sex, but it had looked a lot like Cisco was into it.

"Then… why?"

Cisco shrugged helplessly. "He asked?"

From the other room, Hartley perked up. "I'm taking that as a compliment."

"It was not a compliment! Look, Barry, I'm so, so sorry. That," he pointed at Hartley, "should not have happened."

"Has it happened before?"

Cisco's cringe was the only answer he needed. What he got was Hartley's lewd, "Several times."

Thankfully, Cisco stepped through the door, closing it behind him. With the glass walls, Hartley could still see them, but at least he couldn't interrupt.

"Okay, yes, but that was before the accelerator blew and he went all evil."

"Did you," Barry had to take a second before he said the rest, because for some reason, it was really hard to say, "like him?"

"No!" He shouldn't be so relieved at how adamant Cisco was. "It wasn't like that."

"What was it like?"

"It was like…" Cisco bit his lip and Barry tried not to focus too hard on the way his teeth dragged against the fullness of it. "We were all working long hours at the end there, that final push to make sure everything was ready and he was just... _always there_ , in my face and acting like I couldn't do anything without supervision, even when Dr. Wells, Thawne, whoever, told him to let me work in peace. Eventually, it was this release of tension that had built up between us. Well, for me it was. I don't know what it was for him. I don't want to know."

"Okay, and now?" It shouldn't be important. It wasn't like Cisco owed him any answers. Barry was the one pushing to let Hartley stay. He was the one insisting Hartley had saved Cisco's life.

Cisco crossed his arms over his chest and looked for all the world like he wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. "Between my tendency to stick my foot in my mouth when I'm talking to anyone I find even remotely attractive and everything that's been going on here with you and then you being the Flash and you living with me, I haven't gotten any in over a year now."

"Any? Oh!" Sex. He was talking about sex. "Okay, but, why Hartley?"

"It's not like I have a line of people banging my door down to get in my pants, dude. The last person I tried to make time with ended up being Lisa Snart. At least with Hartley I know what I'm getting. Seriously, who else am I supposed to hit up? Cailtin? Because she's engaged to half of F.I.R.E.S.T.O.R.M. and I'm not a fan of dying."

Barry was only half listening because at the mention of Lisa Snart, his gut had done that same tight roll it had when he'd seen Cisco kissing her. It wasn't the same kind of tightness he got right before a panic attack, but he hadn't been sure what it was before. He was pretty sure he knew now, though.

"I guess I could set up an online dating profile. Mechanical engineer who helped blow a hole in Central City seeks someone who can to look past that. Must be willing to play video games, watch cult classics all night, love pizza, and…"

Before he could stop himself, Barry lunged forward and pressed his mouth to Cisco's, stopping the litany of words. He wasn't even sure it qualified as a kiss, per say. Neither of them were moving, there was no tongue, just the press of one mouth against another, but Cisco's lips were as soft and warm as they looked.

When he pulled back, Cisco was staring at him with wide eyes. "Did you just…?"

Barry nodded a little numbly, because he almost couldn't believe it himself, but now that he had, he didn't want to take it back. He actually kind of maybe wanted to do it again.

"But you've never said…" Barry shrugged, unable to find the words, and Cisco gave a strange kind of nervous laugh. "Are you serious? Because if you're not, that's okay, but I really need you to tell me. Like now."

Was he serious? He thought about Cisco going home with Lisa Snart, about seeing him making out with Hartley, about how it had felt when he'd been gone those two weeks and then losing him only to get him back and having to face nearly losing him again and the answer was a very clear and decisive, "Yes, I'm serious."

Cisco looked back at Hartley watching them and then patted his back pocket for his phone. "Okay. How about we, I don't know, get dinner, see a movie, talk about this?"

"Like a date?" Barry suddenly felt the edge of panic. Not panic attack panic, but he'd been out of the game for a really long time. In fact, he wasn't sure what he'd been doing at sixteen even counted as being in the game in the first place. He had no idea how to go on a date with anyone, let alone someone he was serious about and he wanted this to be serious. He needed this to be serious.

"I don't know about you, but I really, really want to forget what almost happened in there. So, how about we go out, eat tacos, and decide if it was a date later?"

And that Barry could do.

* * *

 _Cisco: Sorry to bail. Me and Barry need to talk. Fill you in later._

Caitlin wandered the halls of S.T.A.R. Labs, checking the usual rooms until she found Hartley in Dr. Wells' office, as per usual. "There you are. You wouldn't happen to know what's going on with Barry and Cisco?"

Hartley was sitting in Dr. Wells' chair, slouched just slight, hands clasped neatly in his lap, eyebrows raised at her intrusion. "Is something wrong?"

"No." She ignored his very obvious villain pose. It wouldn't do to encourage him. "They left to go talk alone and I was just wondering…"

Actually, now that she thought about it, asking Hartley wasn't going to get her anywhere. It wasn't like Cisco was going to come to him before he came to her. "You know what? Never mind. I'll see you in the morning."

She started to turn, but Hartley stopped her. "They're on a date."

"Excuse me?" There was no way she'd heard that right.

Hartley's smile widened. "A date. Dinner and a movie. Actually, it might not be a date, they haven't quite decided yet, but I think we both know where that's going."

She narrowed her eyes. "Not that I don't believe you, but how do you know that?"

With a roll of his eyes and a belabored sigh, Hartley used his foot to rock the chair from side to side. "I was in the middle of getting into Cisco's pants when Barry so rudely interrupted and they left the room to talk about it. Thankfully, I'd had the foresight to turn the intercom on, so I heard everything. It was incredibly saccharine, although I probably should have expected as much."

Foresight? But that would mean… No, Hartley would never. He'd called romance novels a blight on society, if not mankind itself. After she'd gotten engaged, he had routinely quoted statistics on divorce and infidelity, saying all marriages were doomed for failure and relationships were a waste of time and effort. There was absolutely no way that Hartley Rathaway would have done anything to push Barry and Cisco into a romantic relationship. Then again, he had known Barry would be looking for Cisco. "Did you do that on purpose?"

Hartley smirked. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course not." She just managed to refrain from sighing again as she adjusted her purse on her shoulder. "Are you coming?"

He froze, foot twisted awkwardly in mid-sway. "Coming where?"

"I need alcohol and since you decided to play matchmaker with my drinking partners, you volunteered yourself."

His smirk dropped into a frown, but he stood and followed her out of the office. "I would argue if the word alcohol hadn't been in that sentence."

* * *

They didn't talk about 'them' at Titos. Mostly, Barry bounced his theories of what was going to happen next on the Walking Dead and Cisco smiled conspiratorially in a way that only told Barry he was either right on or dead wrong. After they finished the food, they went to the theater, where Cisco refused to see a romantic comedy because it was 'cliché', which Barry didn't really mind, because he'd only suggested it to see the look on Cisco's face.

After Age of Ultron, they spent most of the walk home talking about that. If it was a date, Barry decided it was the best one he'd ever been on. Granted, that really didn't say much, considering his dating experience up until now was just shy of non-existent. Talk of Age of Ultron devolved into Cisco's own attempts at making robots of mass destruction.

"I wanted to be on Battlebotts so bad. I cried when they canceled it." He sipped his left over soda. "Me and one of the other techs at S.T.A.R. Labs built our own robots and pitted them against each other in a fight to the death."

"Who won?"

"The vending machine. We accidentally rammed into it with enough force that it fell over and crushed our botts. It was tragic, especially the part where we broke the vending machine and had to tell Dr. Wells what we were doing at S.T.A.R. Labs at eight on a Saturday with Hartley all but saying 'I told you so,' the whole time. Luckily, Dr. Wells had a sense of humor. Or, at least, he pretended to. There's a memorial placard for the vending machine in the cafeteria."

"Speaking of."

"That is a horrible segue."

"I know." He did, he really did, but it was the first time either of them had brought up Hartley or Dr. Wells. "So, you had no idea about Hartley and Dr. Wells back when you were…?"

"No. I mean, there were rumors, but I didn't believe any of them, especially not after Hartley and I…" Cisco shuddered violently and Barry chuckled. He looked up and couldn't help focusing on Cisco's mouth, sucking down sickly sweet soda. "What about you? Did sixteen year old Barry Allen do a lot of dating?"

"God, no. I had the biggest crush on Iris. I could hardly see past that and, besides, awkward-you-now has nothing on awkward-me-then. I could put my foot in my mouth without actually saying anything."

They walked in silence for a minute. It wasn't a short walk back to the apartment, but it was nice out and they were almost there. Cisco broke the silence and when he did, it was barely above a whisper. "What about now? Do you have a crush on Iris now?"

Barry stopped walking and looked at Cisco's expectant face. Then he remembered the news article Cisco had told them about. Nine years from now and the words Iris West-Allen in bold. He hadn't thought about it much then, because he'd been too relieved to have Cisco back, then too worried about losing him again, then absolutely obsessed with making sure it didn't happen a third time. Did he, though? Did he have feelings for Iris?

He stopped to lean against a wall. They were a block away from the apartment. This side of town the streetlights lit up the sidewalk bright enough that it gave the illusion of safety, even at eleven.

"Barry?"

He gave it a moment longer, trying to imagine kissing Iris, holding her – then he shook his head. "No. No, I don't think… I don't have a crush on her anymore. I'm not even sure I can see her that way. Not now."

Cisco sucked the last of the soda out of the plastic cup and tossed it in a trash can not far away. "So, the article? Iris West-Allen?"

"I have no idea. Maybe something changes? Nine years is a long time."

"Maybe you have a brother you don't know about and Iris marries him?"

Barry couldn't quite suppress a grin. "Are you seriously hoping my dad cheated on my mom and I have an illegitimate half brother, so Iris can marry him and you don't have to worry about some holographic newspaper from the future?"

Cisco gave it only a second, then nodded enthusiastically and Barry moved off the wall to nudge his shoulder playfully before lacing his fingers in with Cisco's for the last block. It was nice, Cisco's hand was warm in his and it reminded him of waking up in S.T.A.R. Labs the second time, with Joe and Wells arguing on the other side of the door and Cisco there, just so he wouldn't be alone if he woke up.

The night watchman nodded at them as they passed. The hallway was empty and only dimly lit. When they got to the door, Barry stopped Cisco before he could open it. "So, uh, was this a date?"

With a tilt of his head, Cisco pushed his hair behind his ear and grinned. "I don't know. Was it?"

He wasn't sure why it mattered what this was, except if it was a date? Dates ended in kissing.

Barry started forward, hesitated when Cisco's eyes narrowed, then pushed through the nerves and into the kiss. It was just like before, stiff with surprised on both their parts. Cisco must have seen it coming, Barry didn't think he was being particularly subtle, but knowing it was going to happen and Barry actually having the nerve to do it were two different things; then Cisco moved his lips against Barry's, just a fraction, but it was all he needed.

Barry relaxed into it, pressing Cisco back against the wall as he put a hand up and brushed the dark hair out of the way. He let his fingers get caught up in it with his palm pressed against the warmth of the other man's cheek. When they pulled apart, Barry licked his lip and tasted the salty sweet traces of the Sour Patch Kids Cisco had eaten at the theater and orange soda.

"You didn't answer my question, dude." Barry kissed him again, quicker, but without any of the stiffness or hesitation. When he pulled back this time, Cisco nodded. "Totally a date."

He leaned in again, because he liked kissing. He'd forgotten how nice it was, or maybe it had never been that nice with anyone else. The Reverse-Flash had certainly never tried it and the others were so long ago that he didn't clearly remember them. The only thing filling his head was that one moment, just them in a dimly lit hallway after the best date he'd ever been on with someone he really, really liked.

Cisco put a hand on Barry's chest and his smile wasn't as wide anymore. "Hey, just so we're clear, this isn't… I don't expect anything. Tonight or anytime in the near future."

Barry frowned, "What?"

"No, I mean, this is nice. This is _great_. I like this and more would be awesome. You know, eventually." The hand clenched in his shirt, then smoothed it out. "I just need to make sure that I know that you know that when we go in there, I don't expect anything. No matter what was going on with Hartley, or, was about to go on, no matter what I said, I'm good with just this."

It wasn't until he mentioned Hartley that Barry got it. Cisco was saying he wasn't expecting sex, which hadn't even crossed Barry's mind. It should have, any other reasonable adult would have realized sex and a relationship eventually had to go together and considering Cisco and him were way past the 'getting to know you' stage, it would usually be sooner, but Barry was quickly starting to realize he didn't necessarily fit under the category of 'reasonable adult' some of the time. Okay, a lot of the time.

Not that it mattered, though, because Cisco was making sure Barry didn't feel pressured into it, which would have been laughable if it wasn't so perfect. He'd never felt pressured into anything by Cisco. Well, maybe he'd felt a little pressured into watching the Walking Dead, but it was really good, so Barry wasn't complaining about that.

He dropped his forehead to press against Cisco's. "I trust you."

Which was when Mr. Nguyen from across the hall opened his door. "That's sweet, but if you two are done making out, some of us are trying to sleep."

Cisco ducked out from under Barry and dug his keys out of his pocket, while Barry pressed a fist to his mouth to cover his laughter. "Right, sorry."

They tumbled over each other into the apartment and Barry locked the door behind them, still trying to keep the laugh in. "Considering what this place charges you in rent, dude, these walls are paper thin."

At least now, Barry figured, when the neighbors told Cisco that him and his boyfriend needed to keep it down, Cisco wouldn't feel the need to correct them only to have them tisk at him like he was hiding something.

"So," Cisco looked around the small living room, before his eyes settled on the door to the bedroom. "Bed?"

Barry nodded in agreement. Bed sounded good.

* * *

"Are you drunk?"

"I'm not drunk. I'm inebriated." Hartley did not stumble as he stepped off the ladder, nor did he fall on his ass on the floor of the accelerator. He simply miss-stepped, then set himself down harder then he intended. Eobard raised his eyebrows and Hartley huffed at the sign of amusement. "Blame your little pet bio-engineer. She wanted to get drinks. I was forced to humor her in order to gain her trust."

Eobard went back to his work, slower then he would be if Hartley weren't there. "I'm surprised she asked you. Barry and Cisco were otherwise occupied, I suppose?"

"They were on a date."

The screw driver stopped turning. "They were what?"

"On a date. Barry's suspicious of my motives, so I gave him something else to think about."

"It worked?"

"I'll know tomorrow. I was too busy placating Dr. Snow, but I checked the live feed before coming down. They appear to have fallen asleep holding hands. Waste of a perfectly good night. Ten more minutes and I could have at least gotten laid." Eobard didn't bother turning around, he simply waited for it. "Can I still get laid?"

"You're never more obvious then when you're inebriated."

"Is that a no?"

"That is most definitely a no."

Hartley didn't say anything for several minutes and Eobard was just slipping back into that quie, focus he needed when spending hours upon hours fixing the damaged accelerator, when the boy spoke again.

"Barry says he went back in time."

Eobard did look over then and Hartley's face was carefully neutral, cheeks tinged red, his dark green designer t-shirt rumpled from the evenings activities. There was more to it then that, something else on Hartley's mind. "I suspected as much."

"Hm." Hartley looked him up and down. "He says you killed Cisco."

"That was my intention if Barry had failed to stop me."

"And if you had, what would you have done to me?"

To be honest, he wasn't entirely sure what he would have done to Hartley. Certainly, he would have been less useful. Eobard was reasonably certain the lose of someone as integral to his sanity as Cisco would have had one of two affects on Barry. He would have either become stronger in the hopes of saving the rest of his little makeshift family, or he would have broken entirely. It was a risk Eobard had been willing to take and it appeared to have paid off.

If it hadn't, though? If Cisco had died and Barry had been broken and all of this had been for nothing? "Be glad things worked out the way they did."

Hartley rolled his eyes at the answer and leaned back against the wall. "What are you doing down here, anyway?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were fixing the particle accelerator."

Eobard smiled to himself. "Well, then, I suppose it's a good thing you know better."

Hartley really was obvious when he was drunk. It was amusing, though perhaps a little annoying. If the boy was going to pump him for information, he could at least be subtle about it.

With an annoyed sigh, Hartley stood and headed up the ladder for the door. "I'm going to go watch porn on your computer."

At least he had the satisfaction of seeing Eobard's face twist in offense. "Do not use my equipment for pornography, Hartley!"

Hartley looked down from the top platform. "It's not _your_ equipment, it's property of S.T.A.R. Labs, which, if I might be so bold as to remind you, belongs to Harrison Wells, not Eobard Thawne who won't be born for another hundred and thirty six years."

It would be so easy to kill him and so much more satisfying then listening to his sardonic commentary. A small part of him wondered if this was some sort of cosmic punishment, because, as much as he was loathed to admit it, he did indeed need Hartley at the moment. He couldn't rebuild the accelerator and keep an eye on Barry at the same time.

The bay doors closed and he resolved to seek out Hartley the next evening, satisfy enough of the boy's curiosity without giving him any pertinent information so that Eobard could work in peace, at least for a few days. He paused a moment, held open his hand and let the image of the holographic newspaper flicker in front of him – still the same picture, same caption, same by-line. The future could be changed and for that change, in particular, there might be a great many consequences. It was an interesting prospect.


	10. Bee Yourself (1)

**Summary:** There's someone out there using bees to kill people, they haven't openly told everyone they're dating, and he still has no idea what Hartley's hiding, but all Barry can think about is his latest therapy session and Dr. Rayburn's question: Can he see himself, at some point in the future, having sex with Cisco, or anyone for that matter?

* * *

 **Bee Yourself (1/2)**

Barry liked Dr. Rayburn. He was well into his fifties with smile lines on tan skin and salt and pepper hair. He never sounded particularly judgmental. He was so calm about everything, that Barry would suspect he had pharmaceutical help, but he respected the man too much to really believe that. Which was probably why when Dr. Rayburn took off his glasses and fixed him with a very serious stare, Barry felt immediately uncertain.

"Barry, how would you categorize your relationship with Mr. Ramon now?"

Oh, that was… He ducked his head and ran his fingers through his hair nervously. They'd been discussing Cisco and the events leading up to Barry's realization about how he felt and how Cisco felt and the really nice kissing and hand holding and cuddling on the couch. It was perfectly reasonable question, but still threw him. "Uh, I don't know, really. I guess… boyfriend?"

"Not the status of the relationship, but what kind of relationship are you in or hope to be in at some point in the future?" He had no idea how to even begin to answer that. He wasn't even really sure what it meant. His confusion must have shown, because Dr. Rayburn attempted to clarify. "Can you see yourself, in the future, having intimate relations with Mr. Ramon?"

Barry's entire body flushed in embarrassment. Right, intimate, as in sex. He thought about it for a second, but came up blank, so he shrugged. "I don't know. I guess? I mean, we're dating so… I mean, that's what couples do."

"Not necessarily. There are many forms a relationship can take and not all of them are sexual. This isn't a topic I expected us to come to for quite sometime, however, in light of your current situation, I feel it's prudent that we address it now. Barry, have you heard of the term asexual?"

He shook his head.

"It's used to refer to someone who has little to no interest in sexually related activities. This person may still desire romance – kissing, hand holding, dating, things you've mentioned – they simply don't have an interest in taking it further."

Barry was starting to see where this was going. "I've… I mean, I wasn't a complete virgin or anything when he… I've done stuff with people before and I wanted to do more."

"I'm not suggesting otherwise. There is still some debate in the scientific community as to whether asexuality is psychological or physiological or perhaps a combination thereof. However, considering everything you've been through, it would not be out of the realm of possibility for you to develop an aversion to the idea of having sex. Tell me, Barry, have you masturbated since you woke up from the coma?"

"That is…" He stopped himself from saying it was none of his business, because Dr. Rayburn could be blunt, but he always had a point and, quite frankly, this was his business. He was helping Barry cope with what had happened to him and the rape had been part of that. They'd talk about it before, but never extensively, as the subject made Barry intensely uncomfortable. "No, I've tried, but…"

There was a length of silence that lasted several seconds, before Dr. Rayburn asked, "But?"

Barry looked at his knees, breathing through the embarrassment that made his skin feel too tight. "I get freaked out."

"About what?"

"That I'll have a panic attack."

"Do you feel panicked?"

"No." He didn't, not about the idea of touching himself. There had been a few times he'd woken up with morning wood and thought it would be easy enough to slip into the bathroom and take care of it like he used to, back before, but every time he did, he froze. It was the 'what if.' What if halfway through something happened, a memory triggered and it spiraled out of control and… then it was like he was starting to have a panic attack over the idea of having a panic attack. He just couldn't bring himself to do it, so he'd stopped trying.

Barry didn't need to look up to know Dr. Rayburn was studying his every move careful, gauging where Barry was mentally.

"I'm not going to suggest that you being in a relationship with Mr. Ramon is in any way unhealthy. I'm not even suggesting that you are, in fact, asexual. I'm simply making you aware that relationships come in many different forms and not all of those include that level of intimacy. I am also going to ask you to be cautious. It's been only five months since you woke up and you've made remarkable progress, Barry, nothing short of miraculous, but you are still recovering. You will, in all likelihood, need some form of therapy for years, if not the rest of your life."

It was a sobering thought and one that Barry hadn't really considered. He knew this wasn't going to be easy, but it hadn't occurred to him that there might never really be an end to it.

"I tell you this because I don't believe you want to hurt Mr. Ramon, but he's a grown man who is, according to you, sexually active. Now, that doesn't mean he expects sex from you or that he won't understand if you don't want it, but it does mean that you should consider where you want this new relationship of yours to go. You should talk to Mr. Ramon about it and about what he wants and that conversation should remain open. You may find you change your mind several times through the course of your therapy."

Barry nodded, a little numb and a lot confused. He really hadn't put all that much thought into it. He liked Cisco, he found him attractive, he enjoyed kissing him, holding him, talking to him. He felt safe with him. Anything beyond that had been secondary.

Before he could say any of those things, his phone vibrated. Barry hesitated, but Dr. Rayburn nodded knowingly. He usually preferred his patients turn their phones off during sessions, but another perk to him knowing about Barry being the Flash was that he understood the importance of him staying in communication with his team.

It was Joe, who knew he was in session and that mean whatever this was, had to be important. There were only ten minutes left in his hour, anyway. "I'm really sorry, but I have to take this. I will definitely think about that, though, and talk to Cisco. Thank you. Hey, Joe, what's up?"

* * *

"Bees, why did it have to be bees."

"Indiana Jones?"

Cisco looked over to Barry through narrowed eyes at the acknowledgment of his movie reference. "Which one?"

"Errr…Raiders of the Lost Ark?"

"Yes! My man!" He held his hand out and Barry hesitated – he really shouldn't be encouraging this – but went in for the high five, if only because he couldn't leave Cisco hanging. "Back to the bees, though. I don't do bees. Ain't nobody got time for bees."

Hartley sighed, long and suffering. "He's quoting the internet now. Thank you, Barry, for encouraging behavior that will haunt me well into my dreams."

"Hey!" Cisco pointed a warning finger across the room, but couldn't quite manage to take his eyes off the giant bee on the screen in front of him. "You keep me out of your dreams."

Hartley rolled his eyes as Caitlin came from around her computer, tablet in hand. "Detective West said there were no stingers in the body?"

Barry nodded. "And no dead bees in the car."

Caitlin bit her lip. "A honey bee can only deposit .1 milligrams of apitoxin when it releases its stinger."

The screen switched over to the dead Doctor's profile, courtesy of Hartley, who had taken it upon himself to sit at the main computer. "Ms. Kang had a little more than that in her system."

Caitlin looked over the results with an impressed raise of her eyebrows. "Enough to kill an entire herd of elephants."

Cisco shuddered. "That's a lot of bees."

Hartley scrolled through the medical report. "So, what are we thinking? A meta-human that can control bees?"

Caitlin's mouth pinched in thought. "Possibly? They'd have to be increasing the toxicity as well."

It was at times like these that Barry was actually grateful for all those books on insects he'd read. Over and over for weeks on end. He was fairly certain he could identify all four thousand species of spiders in the United States and Canada as well as a few of the more exotic ones. There had been pictures and documented accounts, not just of the spiders, but what the venom could do. Most were harmless, but the ones that weren't? He managed to hold back a shudder. Spiders, he could do without.

Bees, however? Those were kind of fun. "Bees communicate by pheromones. Maybe this meta is controlling them through secretion?"

He glanced around the room and Cisco's face was priceless, the perfect marriage of disgusted and disturbed. "Anyone want to join me in getting a bee-keeper suit?"

"Don't worry, I'll save you. Pretty sure I can outrun a bee." He tried not to look too smug when Cisco's expression lightened considerably.

"Just don't run into a lake." All eyes turned to the door where Felicity stood. "Bees will wait for you to come up for air and then they'll sting you. Discovery Channel. Turns out, there's a lot discover."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Caitlin wave. Hartley didn't appear impressed or even interested, but Barry had gotten fairly good at reading the him. Disinterest was his default setting and it meant he was waiting for more information before forming an opinion.

"Felicity, what are you doing here?"

Instead of answering, she asked, "Can you guys come outside for a sec?"

They exchanged silent looks, but seeing as there were no bees actively attacking someone, there wasn't a reason not to. Unasked, Hartley followed behind them.

The early afternoon sun was bright. They arranged themselves around the small cement courtyard and followed Felicity's gaze upward into the blank sky. When nothing happened immediately, Barry sat on the rail and Cisco moved in behind him, surreptitiously slipping one hand forward to brush against Barry's wrist. Barry glanced around, but everyone's focus was turned up, so he put his own hand back, slipping his fingers between Cisco's.

They weren't keeping it a secret as much as they just weren't talking about it or doing anything to draw attention to themselves.

Cisco's thumb rubbed over the back of his hand lightly. Barry looked back to meet his questioning gaze, then shook his head and pointed at the others, then up at the sky. They'd talk about it later, when they were alone. In truth, he was a little relieved to have killer bees on the loose, because he wasn't sure he was ready to talk about his session yet.

Hartley held his hand up, turning his attention from the sky to his cuticles, then back to Felicity. "Not that I'm complaining, I could certainly use the sun, but what are we doing out here?"

Felicity looked back at him, eyes narrow. "Who are you again?"

Behind him, Barry could feel the slight shake of Cisco's shoulders as he laughed silently.

Hartley gave her his dead stare and said, "Hartley Rathaway?"

"Right, the dick." She turned to Caitlin on her other side. "Right?"

Caitlin nodded, her own smile badly disguised behind a hand over her mouth. Cisco dropped his forehead onto Barry's shoulder to smother his laugh and his hand in Barry's squeezed a little tighter.

Sometimes, Barry thought they needed to stop teasing Hartley so much. He might have other, hidden motives, but he was trying. He had helped them save Cisco and stop the Trickster and he was at least a little bit stuck there. Then he remembered that Cisco'd had sex with Hartley and what Hartley's hands had looked like gripping Cisco's ass and any thoughts of taking it easy on the Pied Piper were washed from his mind.

Felicity pointed up. "Oh, there!"

It took him a second to see it, the small spec in the sky coming closer. Cisco dropped his hand as they both moved to stand with the others.

Caitlin tipped her head a little. "Is that a bird?"

Cisco scrunched his eyes up. "It's a plane."

As they watched, the small dot became a man who fell into a crouch on the ground, cracking the cement tiles under him. Felicity smiled a little nervously. "It's my boyfriend."

Hartley's eye twitched, but he wisely said nothing.

The metal suit stood and tugged off its helmet. "Hi, I'm Ray."

* * *

As Caitlin checked Ray over, Barry tried not to stare too hard. Felicity definitely had a type. It wasn't a bad type, either. Not that it did anything for Barry, who was currently partial to a certain long haired Latino, but he could appreciate the aesthetic appeal. Ray had classically handsome features, a charming smile, broad shoulders, and Barry might not be able to see under his shirt, but Ray's arms were at least as big as Oliver's, possibly larger. Not only that, but Ray was apparently also a billionaire who wanted to play super hero.

A shoulder bumped his as Felicity moved in to stand next to him. She winked. "Like what you see?"

He blushed hotly. "What?!"

His cry drew attention from Cisco, standing on the other side of the room, but Barry waved him off then turned back to Felicity and her amused eyebrows. "No, I don't… not… why would you say that?"

"Barry, calm down, it was a joke." He couldn't stop from glancing back over at Cisco again who was still looking at them suspiciously. She followed his gaze, then turned back to him. "Okay, what was that?"

"What was what?"

"You know what."

"What?"

"Barry…"

Ray stepped out of the room and Barry had never been so relieved to have a conversation interrupted in his entire life. He was a little less relieved, however, when Cisco was more then willing to forego their bee problem to work on the Atom Suit, leaving Barry with Hartley and Caitlin for support.

Before he could argue his point further, Felicity wrapped her arm through his and announced that they were going to Jitters and would catch up with everyone later. S.T.A.R. Labs wasn't far from the coffee shop and it was nice enough out that he didn't complain when she veered left, away from the parking lot and toward the walkway into town.

It was quiet – after the morning rush, but before the lunch hour. Not as many people on the streets and Barry settled into the walk easily. Only five months. He hadn't even thought about it in terms of time, but Dr. Rayburn was right. Just five months ago, he wouldn't have been able to do this. Five months ago, just the idea of walking through Central City where anyone could, and probably would, inadvertently crowd his personal space or bump into him, would have been enough to send him spiraling. Now, he was walking to Jitters and there was some apprehension, but it was muted and manageable, especially with someone he trusted at his side.

Felicity tightened her hold on her arm. "So, Oliver asked me to check up on you, see how you were holding up."

"Yeah?" He hadn't seen Oliver since before they found Cisco, but he had talked to him on the phone a few times.

"And? How are you holding up?"

"I'm… managing." Because Felicity had an amazing bullshit meter and Barry didn't feel like lying about it. "It's not easy. There are days I want to just run and not stop until I get to Oliver's deserted island in the middle of nowhere."

"You'd have to be able to run on water." Felicity stopped. "Can you run on water?"

He grinned without answering and she sighed as they started walking again. "In that case, don't run to Lian Yu. They don't have coffee and donuts on Lian Yu. Run to Hawaii and take me with you, please. I could really use a vacation."

"If I decide to make a run for it, I will definitely take you with me, but things are getting better."

"How much better?"

Barry rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "A lot better."

"Mhm." She opened the door to Jitters for him and they quietly got their coffee and a table. When they were settled and the first sips of liquid warmth had taken the edge off the cold outside, she started in again. "So, would this 'better' have anything to do with the reason you looked like you were going to punch my boyfriend when Cisco said he wanted to help him with his suit?"

"I did not…" She cut him off with a very serious nod. "I wasn't mad at Ray."

"Were you mad at Cisco?"

Not really, no. He'd just felt a little betrayed. Not that he didn't understand. Ray needed help with his suit and if anyone had asked Barry who he trusted with that job, it was Cisco, hands down. Plus, Cisco didn't like bees and it wasn't like the rest of them couldn't handle it on their own. So, there was no reason for him to feel hurt by it. He still did.

"Barry?" Felicity waited for him to look up. "Conversations go two ways."

"Right, sorry." Cisco had said something like that once – that Barry had a tendency to trail off into his head and either forget to the say the rest or sum it up in a way that clearly left out more than half of what he was thinking. Of course, that was assuming he started to answer at all.

"So…"

"What? Oh! No, not… I wasn't mad at him, I…"

"Wait." She leaned forward, hands wrapped around her mug, serious frown on her face. "Please remember that I've worked with Oliver for over two years. At this point, I can smell a lie from ten feet away. Continue."

So far, outside of his psychiatrist, he'd only told Iris, mostly because he figured he owed it to her, but also because he had to tell someone and she had been the least likely to dissect it. She'd been thrilled to be the first one in on his secret for once, though she put a one month cap on how long he was allowed to go behind everyone's back – although, he was pretty sure Eddie knew, because she'd made it very clear when Barry and her had talked about his being the Flash, that she wasn't keeping secrets from him.

If he told Felicity, it would get back to Oliver. That's why she was there, after all. It wasn't that he was ashamed of it, he just didn't want to defend it. Dr. Rayburn had been very diplomatic about it, but the sentiment had been exactly what he'd been afraid of. He wasn't ready. It was too soon. Did he really know what he was getting into? Was he sure about what he wanted? Was he sure Cisco knew what he was getting into? Just because he'd been helping Barry deal with everything, didn't mean he was prepared to deal with this. Was it even fair to put Cisco in that position?

He already had all of those questions and more bouncing around inside his head, he didn't need everyone else asking them as well. At least not yet. He just wanted to enjoy it for a little while. And he had.

"Cisco and I are seeing each other."

She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, took a sip of her coffee, looked at Barry, really looked at him, close enough to make him look away. "Seeing each other how?"

"We're together. A couple, I guess. Dating, definitely." Could he say boyfriend? Was that something adults did, or did they just date? He should ask Cisco about that.

Felicity took another sip of her coffee. Then another. "So, you're upset that he wants to work with Ray instead of you? You realize Ray's my boyfriend. We have sex. Lots of sex. We had sex this morning before I hit the road. We're probably going to have sex again tonight. Well, maybe not. We don't have a room and Ray is seriously built. I don't think we can both fit in the back of my car and still have space to move."

Barry couldn't quite keep the disgust off his face, because he was trying not to picture that and failing miserably. Not that Felicity wasn't attractive or that Ray wasn't attractive or that they weren't attractive together, but he was barely coming to terms with the idea of himself in a more than platonic relationship without adding other people and their naked parts to it.

"Right, sorry. The point is, I really don't think you have to worry about him trying to steal Cisco out from under you, or… over you?"

"Neither." He jumped on that before her mouth could run away, because, yeah, he definitely wasn't having that conversation. "Yet. I'm not worried about Ray stealing Cisco. It's more about Hartley."

"Hartley?"

As he filled her in on Hartley, he catalogued her facial expressions, which shifted steadily from interested to confused to horrified. "So, wait, let me get this straight. Hartley was sleeping with Cisco _and_ Dr. Wells, who was really Eobard Thawne, who also… with you?"

He nodded and she took a deep breath in and out. "And I thought there was drama in Starling City. That's all in the past, though, right?"

"I know that, but I don't trust Hartley. There's just something… he's not telling us everything, I can feel it."

"Have you told Cisco that?"

"Of course and he agrees, Caitlin too, but until we know more, it's better to have him where we can see him."

"So, then, what's the problem?" Before Barry could say anything, she held a hand up. "No, think about it, Barry. Cisco isn't trusting Hartley. He's trusting Caitlin to keep an eye on Hartley and he's trusting you to trust him. It's not like he's driving back to Starling City to work at Palmer Technologies. He'll be in S.T.A.R. Labs the entire time."

Which made perfect sense. "You're right. I know you're right."

She patted his hand consolingly. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm sleeping with Ray, even though I have feelings for Oliver, whose admits to having feelings for me as well, but refuses to act on them, because he's the Arrow and he doesn't want to put me in danger."

"But that doesn't make any sense. You work for him as the Arrow, sometimes in the field. You've been targeted multiple times by bad guys because of that. He used you as bait for Slade. How does dating put you in more danger than that?"

She sighed heavily. "Welcome to my world. Oh, hey, so, does Iris know about you and Cisco?"

He nodded emphatically and she beamed. "Good! We can do a triple date, then."

"A what?"

"It'll be great. Ray and me, Eddie and Iris, you and Cisco. We'll dress up, go somewhere nice."

"Oh, I don't…" Before he could get the words out, his phone rang.

* * *

Cisco stood with his arms folded over his chest in front of Barry, who was sitting on the treadmill. "So, let me break this down. What you're saying is it's a good thing I got you killed, because it got us out of a date?"

"Right? It was super fancy, too, you would have had to wear a suit and tie. I know how much you hate that. So, win win." Cisco didn't look impressed.

"Again, you _died_."

"Yeah, but not really." Barry saw his out in the way Cisco's eyes were moving over his face where the swelling from the stings had finally gone down, then to his chest where his heart was beating under the S.T.A.R. Labs logo. "I mean, okay, I went into cardiac arrest, but you got to use your defibrillator."

"That's not…"

"You totally saved me with your tech." Cisco's annoyed façade faltered and Barry stood up, using the advantage, which probably wasn't fair. He knew exactly how Cisco was feeling, but he wasn't going to let him dwell on it. Taking Cisco's hand, he held it to his chest and grinned. "My hero. How did you get a defibrillator in there, anyway?"

"Oh, check it out! You know how the power source for the coms and sensors is in the emblem, right? So, when I put it there, I realized it was near the heart and in an emergency, the power output could be rerouted to send an electric jolt into the body, acting as a defibrillator to jump start the heart. I had to fabricate thin metal sheets that were flexible enough to move with the suit and direct the electricity and you totally just distracted me from what I was upset about in the first place."

Leaning in, he pressed his lips to Cisco's. The fingers on Barry's chest flexed against the fabric until they gripped loosely, pulling them closer together. When they separated, Cisco mumbled, "It's still not okay, that's the second time I've put you…"

Barry kissed him again and when he pulled back this time, Cisco sighed in defeat. "You fight dirty, Barry Allen."

"Yeah, but it worked."

Cisco gave Barry a little push before moving back to his work table. "Either way, it'll be at least a few days before I can put another defibrillator in there, so don't get yourself killed between now and then." Barry just smiled. "So, what did Felicity want earlier?"

"Oliver wanted her to check up on me." He rocked on his heels a few times before saying, "I told her about us."

Cisco's hands stopped moving over the emblem, his back to Barry. "You're okay with that?"

"Yeah, of course." From behind, Cisco's shoulders sagged a little and Barry hadn't thought about that, but what if… "Are you okay with it?"

"Totally!" He turned around then, wide eyes and a smile that looked almost like relief. "No, I'm all for, you know, whatever, but you know that means it'll get back here, right? We should probably tell Caitlin before someone else does."

Barry nodded absently. "After this whole killer bee thing is over."

"Word."

They fell into a comfortable silence. Barry sat himself in an empty chair and watching Cisco's face as he looked over the defibrillator with varying degrees of concern and curiosity. "I've gotta find a way to get more then one use out of this thing."

It was cute. Cisco was cute. He was leaning over the table, his shirt riding up his back just enough that Barry could see the top of his boxers and an inch of dark skin under that.

Dr. Rayburn had asked him to think about where he wanted the relationship to go. Barry liked what they were doing. He liked how he fit in Cisco's life and how comfortable Cisco made him feel about that. He liked that they could do nothing and everything together and it was okay. They could watch movies or Cisco could show him what he was working on. Barry'd always had a knack for science and it was easy to get involved when Cisco was so enthusiastic.

The real question, though, was whether he could see himself having sex. Not just with Cisco, but with anyone, because Dr. Rayburn was right. Cisco was sexually active, or had been, and Barry didn't feel even remotely pressured by him to make a decision on that right then, but he did know that if or when he decided how he felt about it, he owed it to Cisco to say something.

Was it off the table? He didn't think so, but then he hadn't really given it much thought. The few times he'd tried to masturbate had been shortly after waking up. No cameras watching him, no one to know what he was doing and it had been a really long time, but he just hadn't been able to. He'd tried to reason himself through it. It wasn't like Thawne had ever touched him there or demanded Barry touch him. What Thawne had done had been about hurting him. It had been quick and rough and with as little contact as he could manage given what he was doing. It hadn't been even remotely pleasurable for Barry. So, really, masturbating was about as far from that spectrum as he could get and he still couldn't manage it. What did that say about his chances of actually having sex with anyone?

His chest tightened almost painfully with the now familiar anger and resentment that seemed to crop up every time he thought about Thawne. He didn't want this to be another thing Thawne took from him. He'd taken so much and Barry was getting little bits of it back, but what if this was the one thing Barry couldn't get back? What if…

The intercom slammed on with a screech and Caitlin's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Bee! Guys we have a bee in the cortex! Barry!"

* * *

Telling Caitlin didn't exactly go the way Barry wanted it to. Granted, he hadn't had a lot of time to think about it, but he figured it would involve sitting down – him, Cisco, and Caitlin, probably Hartley, too, because the guy couldn't keep his nose out of their business – and explaining, like a reasonably adult, that they had decided to make a go at having a relationship. Or words to that affect.

Then he heard Ray say "Cisco's been stung, he's going into shock" and nothing else mattered – not Bree, not what Caitlin did or didn't know – and when Cisco gasped in air, looked at Barry with wide eyes, and said, "either my fear of bees is over or it just got a lot worse." Barry pulled Cisco up a little more with the hand clasped in his, wrapped his other hand around the back of Cisco's head and kissed him, desperate for the confirmation that he was warm and breathing. There was a muffled squeak from Cisco, his mouth slack and just slightly open and Barry didn't think about what he was doing until he was already doing it, his tongue sweeping out and into Cisco's mouth, the taste of artificial cherry stronger then usual.

Cisco's squeak turned into something closer to a moan and Barry pressed in again for a second time before finally, reluctantly pulling away. He was out of breath, light headed with relief. Cisco blinked up at him, just as dazed.

There was a moment of silence. Cisco was panting, heart beating strong and alive and screw everything else. Barry wanted this. He wanted Cisco any and every way he could get him. He wasn't sure how it would work between them or if it would, but he really wanted to try.

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "I want to have sex."

Cisco went from flushed and out of breath to pale and blank in an instant. "Um, okay. Maybe not, you know, right here, because… awkward."

"No, not…" Barry tried to put it in words. "It'll take a while, a really long while and actually, there's a chance it might never happen, I can't even masturbate, but I _want_ to. With you. Eventually."

To their right, a soft cough drew Barry's attention and his stomach sank as he remembered Caitlin was sitting right there, not two feet away with her head turned up and to the left so that she wasn't watching them. Barry flinched as his own words rang in his head. He couldn't figure out what to say over the roar of embarrassment in his ears, so he focused on helping Cisco to his feet instead.

"So," they all turned to Ray, who was smiling like nothing had happened. "I've never had anyone take a bee for me. Thank you."

The tension eased immediately, everyone content to ignore the obvious questions and engage in light hearted banter as they piled into the van. Caitlin insisted Barry ride up front with her while Cisco and Ray looked over the suit in the back, doing damage control from Ray's dip in the lake.

Five minutes into the drive back, Caitlin glanced at him and asked, "So, Cisco and you?"

He nodded, tense and waiting for the lecture. When she didn't say anything, he looked over and she smiled. "It's about time. I was beginning to feel like Iris."

"For real? You guys aren't letting that go anytime soon, are you?"

"Not a chance."

Which… fair enough. "Thanks, Caitlin."

"No problem." She reached over and patted his knee. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving."

* * *

After Caitlin did a full and complete check up on Cisco and after Barry had eaten his weight in cheap fast food, Felicity and Ray announced they were getting a room for the night and would see everyone in the morning. Barry was trying really hard not to think about what Felicity had said earlier.

Caitlin dropped them off on her way home, because neither of them particularly felt like walking and Cisco refused to let Barry carry him. They were curled up together on the couch, Barry sprawled over the sofa with Cisco leaning back against his chest, running through a level of Lego Star Wars.

Cisco glanced back. "You still awake back there?"

"Hm."

"So, I'm trying to leave it alone, but I have to know. What was that, man?"

"What was what?"

"You announcing to what is arguably my best friend outside of you that you want to have sex with me."

Barry dropped his face down onto the top of Cisco's head rather than look him in the eye. With everything that had happened, there hadn't been time to fill Cisco in and now Barry just wanted to crawl under the blankets, wrap himself around his… "Hey, if we're dating, I can call you my boyfriend, right? That's not too highschool or anything?"

That earned him a raised eyebrow and the beginnings of a smile. "Boyfriend works, as long as you answer my question."

"Right, sorry." He leaned back again, settling more comfortably into the couch. "Dr. Rayburn said that I should think about what kind of relationship I wanted, like if I wanted sex to be a part of it, and that I should talk to you about it."

Cisco stared at the television for a few minutes before putting the controller down to sit up and face Barry, all traces of the smile gone. "Look, Barry, this isn't something you have to do, okay? If you're worried about me leaving because you don't want to have sex, that's not gonna happen, man."

"I know, but I want to. I can't…" He couldn't get back those ten years. He could pick up pieces of himself and hope they came together into something that at least resembled himself. He thought he was doing a pretty good job so far, but sex was part of that. Not sex for the sake of having it, Barry had never wanted that. Even as a teenager, he'd been waiting until he was with someone he cared for. He'd wanted that someone to be Iris, but that hadn't happened. "I can't explain it. I just do and I want it to be with you."

Slowly, Cisco turning back around and rested against Barry, which was really nice and warm. "Right. Okay, I believe you, but we're not rushing this."

"No." He laid his head back on the sofa again and closed his eyes.

"And it's okay to change your mind."

"Mhm."

"Hey, were you serious about the whole not masturbating thing?"

"…"

"Barry? You fell asleep, didn't you?"

* * *

Hartley sat in the chair he'd wheeled down and watched the screens with mild disinterest. Eobard was… around. Somewhere doing something secretive, because he didn't trust Hartley, but then Hartley wasn't exactly trustworthy. Detective West was still at the station, filling out paperwork. Eddie had left a few hours before. There was a reporter burning the midnight oil at Iris's office. Unless he wasn't mistaken, and he never was, it was her supervisor.

"Gideon, Cisco's apartment."

Barry and Cisco were asleep on the couch. He'd kind of hoped getting them together would make things more interesting, but no, of course not. He should have known better. Barry was too traumatized and Cisco was a romantic at heart, no matter what Hartley had managed to drag out of him in their brief interludes.

No wonder Eobard had been willing to give Hartley the task, it was boring. Watching people go about their daily lives was boring.

"Gideon, Caitlin's apartment."

He didn't see her at first, but then the bathroom door opened and she stepped out, a towel wrapped loosely around her chest. Thank god Ronnie wasn't there. The last thing he needed was another happy heterosexual couple. Speaking of, "Gideon, Eddie's apartment."

There it was. Did they ever do anything else? Either Hartley had the absolute worst luck, or they were fucking like rabbits. Iris was, subjectively, a very attractive women, but not at all something Hartley was interested in seeing. Eddie, though? He held a hand out and covered the left side of the screen where Iris was straddling Eddie and focused on the man's naked torso and strong arms, his face lax in pleasure.

He shuddered. If he was going to watch people have sex, he'd rather it not be people he knew. "Gideon, manhub."

The rectangular view of Iris and Eddie was replaced by the holographic image of the computer's interface. "I'm sorry, Dr. Rathaway, your access to pornographic material has been restricted."

"Override."

"You are not authorized to override."

Not that he'd expected differently, but he seethed. Under his breath, he muttered, "Of course, and I'll bet I know who is."

"Eobard Thawne."

Hartley refrained from rolling eyes as he stood up to leave. If Eobard was going to restrict his access, Hartley was going to spy on him. Whatever he was doing was bound to be more interesting than…

"And Barry Allen."

His foot froze mid-step and he slowly turned back around. "Say that again."

"Barry Allen has authorization to override that command."

"Why?"

"He created me."

Hartley stood in place for several seconds. "Barry Allen, as in, the Flash? The traumatized man-child that spent ten years as Eobard's punching bag?"

"Yes, also, the Director of Central City Police, CSI Division and founding member of the Justice League."

"Are you kidding me? I have been digging through files for the last month, sucking up to that… that _salaud -_ literally - to figure out what the hell he's up to and all I had to do was ask?"

"Salaud. French for…"

"I know what it means!"

"I do not understand the question."

He pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses and took a moment to choose his words. "Gideon, what is Eobard planning?"

"You do not have the authorization required for me to answer that question."

Of course not. "But Barry Allen does?"

"Yes. I will answer any question given to me by Barry Allen."

So all he needed to do was get Barry Allen there without Eobard knowing what he was doing, because as soon as Eobard knew, Gideon would be gone and any chance he had of fucking up Eobard's plans would go with her. "I want all cameras up."

The holographic face was replaced by a projection of a screen, enlarged and split twenty ways. He had to get to one of them somewhere Eobard couldn't see or hear. Somewhere he wouldn't think to look. In public was out of the question. Hartley wasn't taking the chance that was the one day Eobard decided to check up on his whereabouts.

The apartments were all wired and he had no doubt Gideon had been instructioned to notify Eobard if Hartley showed up anywhere suspicious. Bathrooms. Bathrooms weren't wired, but he'd have to get in one without being seen. Cisco's bathroom didn't have a window, neither did Eddie's. It would be easy enough to slip into Detective West's bathroom, but that was a good way to get shot. His eyes settled on Caitlin's dimly lit bedroom.

He'd been there once. The engagement party, which Ronnie had insisted they invite Hartley to. He'd gone because Wells had given him a lecture about needing to know how to be friendly to the masses. There was something to it. Eobard could manipulate people with ease. They practically ate the bullshit out of his hand. Even Barry, who clearly hadn't trust him, had wanted to so badly that he'd turned a blind eye to everything else. It was an art – a twisted, sick kind of art, but art – and something that Hartley had never quite been able to master, but there was more than one way to play the game.

Caitlin's bathroom had a window. It was higher up than he would have preferred, but he wasn't exactly in a position to be choosey. "I'm finished, Gideon. Nothing to report."

He started to walk out and stopped, turning back to the podium, because really, he couldn't help himself. If Barry Allen was going to be the founding member of something as pretentious sounding as the Justice League, where did that leave him? "Gideon?"

"Yes, Dr. Rathaway."

"Who am I?"

"You are Hartley Rathaway, son of Rachel and Osgood Rathaway. Disgraced heir to Rathaway Industries. Also known as the Pied Piper and member of the Rogues, led by Leonard Snart, alias Captain Cold."

"Thank you, Gideon."

"Of course, Dr. Rathaway."

* * *

 **End Note:** After careful consideration, I decided to refer to Hartley as Dr. Rathaway. Mostly, because with his parents having money and him being referred to as a genius, it stood to reason he had a doctorate in something. I don't know what, but something.


	11. Bee Yourself (2)

**_Bee Yourself (2/2)_**

 _Barry was sitting on the little twin bed, staring at the metal wall, his head slowly, inevitably lolling to the side as he fell asleep. Everything was fuzzy around the edges and he could already hear voices in the back of his head like he was dreaming, except he wasn't, not yet, because the music wouldn't let him. Just as his eye lids shut, it cranked up and he startled back to full consciousness with a sob. He was so tired he hurt. His head hurt, his eyes burned, he was stiff and sore, because lying down only made him succumb to the need for sleep faster and no matter how much he needed it, that wasn't going to happen._

 _His hands shook against his arms and he pulled tighter into himself, rocking on the hard mattress as the volume lowered to a more manageable level. This was torture, plain and simple. He'd thought the starvation and isolation, the beatings were bad, but this… he was going to lose his mind. He had to sleep. He'd read about a rat who died when they deprived it of enough sleep._

 _He couldn't do this. There was no way of knowing how long he'd been there. He could hazard a guess at six months, but he'd be wrong and he knew it. Longer or shorter, it was impossible to tell. Just like he didn't know how long he'd been awake, but he knew it had to be days, because he had never been this tired before. Or maybe not. Maybe it was a combination of too little food and too little sleep. He hadn't had anything other then water since this started._

 _Barry dropped his head against the wall and fought the urge to cry. Not like it would be the first time, or even the second. He'd been crying a lot recently, actually, and begging, except the man in yellow didn't like begging and he didn't like crying and Barry was trying not to piss him off again. He was trying to be good, but he still wasn't really sure what constituted 'good' there._

 _His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Water would be good. He might not have food readily available, but the faucet meant that at least there was always water. Of course to do that he'd actually have to drag himself off the bed and walking the few feet to the bathroom. Then he'd have to stay upright and tilt his head under the faucet without falling over, because he didn't have a cup and his hands were shaking so bad they were useless._

 _The music stopped, cutting off so abruptly Barry found his lungs stopped working with it. Change was never good. Change was always bad. Still, a part of him, small and desperate, really hoped that meant he was going to be allowed to sleep. The rest of him knew better and all traces of exhaustion were gone with the anticipation of what it meant._

 _When the doors opened, he kept his lips tightly closed against the urge to beg. Be good. There had to be a way to make it stop, make it better, make it bearable. There had to be something._

 _The man in yellow stepped in, just enough to let the opening close behind him – the tiles loud in the now silent room. Barry pressed back into the wall behind him. His legs started to pull up before he realized what he was doing and he moved them off the bed instead, slipping down into a crouch with the mattress between him and the man at the door. He'd meant to stand, but the head rush drove him to his knees._

 _The masked head tilted and behind the blur Barry couldn't make out the expression. He dragged air in and used the bed to pull himself up along the wall. He expected the man to lunge at him, to close the distance with his too-fast speed, but he didn't. Instead, he walked with slow, even steps to stand in front of Barry and that was… that was almost more terrifying than the speed._

 _The blurred image looked down the few inches that separated them, studying him with a tilt of the head._

 _"What are…"_

 _A finger moved to press into his lips and Barry hit his head against the wall as he pulled away from it. Stupid, he knew better than that. No talking, no running – especially no running – but he seemed to love it when Barry fought back, not that it earned him any kind of favors. Whether Barry was doing as he was told or pissing him off, either way this was going to hurt._

 _His eyes focused on the finger less than an inch from his face. It stayed there for several seconds before landing softly against Barry's lips and he waited for it to hurt. He waited for the vibration to split his chapped, dehydrated lips, but it just tingled. Not pleasant, but not painful._

 _This close, he could see the curl of the man's lip into a sneer as the hand moved to rest against the side of Barry's face and Barry waited for it. The shock of electric pain or the vibrations that shook his bones and made them grind against each other, sometimes to the point of breaking._

 _It didn't happen. Nothing happened, just that strange, numbing tingle, like when he went to the dentist and came out with one side of his face numb. Despite knowing better, Barry glanced at the arm. "I don't underst…"_

 _He was cut off when both his arms were grabbed, pulling him away from and then back into the wall hard enough to leave him seeing white, but not fast, or, well, not faster then he could follow, not even a fraction of the speed Barry knew the man in yellow was capable of and then the man growled, low and angry._

 _It wasn't like Barry hadn't seen him angry before. He'd seen his captor angry plenty of times, but there was something different about this. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm…"_

 _His back hit the wall again and he bit his tongue by accident, then on purpose to keep from saying anything else. The hands on his arms tightened, but still didn't hurt, not really, not the way he was used to._

 _He was pulled away from the wall again, only instead of being pushed back, he found himself thrown face first on the bed. The grip on his arms was gone, but when Barry tried to turn over, a forearm rested against his back, just below his shoulder blades and pressed down in warning._

 _Being bent over the bed wasn't new. There had been this one time he'd done something so monumentally stupid that he'd been put over the bed and beaten with a belt until his back was a bloody mess. He hadn't done anything this time, though. He hadn't thrown anything, or bitten anyone, or tried to run._

 _What was new, was when a gloved hand grabbed the back of his pants and pulled them down, underwear and all. There was the sound of a belt being undone and Barry bit down into his forearm to muffle the screams that were sure to come when that belt tore into him. If this was even a fraction of what he'd gotten last time, he wasn't going to be able to sit down for weeks. He might not even be able to walk._

 _Instead of the belt, though, something warm and firm and decidedly flesh pressed against his bare ass and he didn't get it, not at first, not until it shifted and nudged against his crack, slightly damp and…_

The music started again, but it wasn't opera, it was… the theme song for Star Wars?

Barry's eyes snapped open. He was staring up at a white ceiling in a dark room and there was someone on top of him, shifting against his chest and between his legs, mumbling "The hell?" Not the room, he wasn't there, that wasn't the Reverse-Flash. It was Cisco's voice. He was in Cisco's apartment and that was Cisco's phone going off.

An arm flew past his face as Cisco reached for the phone balanced next to Barry's head and ended up knocking it off instead. There was a moment where Barry saw arms and legs flying past him and then Cisco was in the bedroom, mumbling hello into the phone.

Just a dream. It was just a dream. Or a nightmare or a flashback or whatever, but it wasn't real. He closed his eyes, breathing deep. He could still feel hands on him, touching him in places he didn't want to think about. Back in the bedroom, Cisco's voice filtered in through the open door, too low to hear clearly over the feed of the background music from Lego Star Wars which was apparently still on. He cracks open his eye to look at the game. It wasn't even paused. Cisco must have fallen asleep playing it.

It had been at least a month since he'd had a dream that vivid and he hadn't dreams about _that_ since… a while now. He could usually trace his nightmare flashbacks to something that had happened. There were very specific and usually obvious triggers. When he'd almost suffocated on Nimbus, he'd had several reoccurring dreams of being held under water until he'd passed out. When he'd faced down Tony, he'd recalled some of his worst beating, ones that left him with cracked ribs, unable to move or even breathe without pain.

Bree hadn't been going around sexually assaulting people with her army of mechanical bees. Actually, that was a profoundly disturbing thought. Refocus. So, not Bree, but if not her, then who? Him. He'd been thinking about sex all day and, of course, that would lead to dreams about… that. The tightness in his chest eased, but didn't go away completely.

Cisco came back in, looking at his phone with sleep blurred confusion. "So, that was…" He looked up from his screen and stopped mid-sentence. "Are you all right, dude?"

Barry pushed himself up to sitting hastily. "What?No,I'mfine,justabaddream."

The words came out rushed, faster than he'd intended and lending absolutely no credence to what he was saying, which Cisco confirmed when he raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, okay, how about you try that again only you don't use your super speed and I can actually understand what you're saying."

Barry gripped the edge of the sofa cushion under him and tried again. "So, who was on the phone?"

"…That is so not what you said." Barry waited for further argument, but Cisco looked at his phone again with a frown. "That was my brother. He, uh… he needs a hand with something if, um… you really sure you're okay?"

No, not really. His hands were shaking, but at least they weren't vibrating, his heart was beating too fast, even for him, and he could still feel the leather clad hands on him, but he couldn't talk about that, not yet. Not after he'd just told Cisco where he wanted their relationship to go. If he talked about the dream now, Cisco might take that to mean Barry wasn't ready to make that decision.

Instead of answering, he stuck with diversionary tactics, provided by a quick glance at the clock. "What does he need help with at five thirty in the morning?"

Cisco's frown only deepened and Barry wasn't even sure if it was aimed at him, because Cisco kept looking at his phone. It was like he was missing something. Was that how people felt when they talked to him? He should work on that, because it was seriously disconcerting.

Another thirty seconds stretched out and Barry was just about to ask again, when Cisco put his phone in his back pocket. "Sorry, yeah, no, it's early, but we should go."

"We?"

"Yeah, we. You should, uh, you should come too." There was something distracted in the way Cisco was running around, pulling on his shoes, grabbing his over-shirt, then tossing Barry's shoes at the foot of the sofa, without looking up once. "Put those on, we have to go."

"Is he okay?"

"What?" Cisco stopped with the door already open, patting his back pocket for his keys. "Oh, Yes. Well, no. I don't know."

Barry raised an eyebrow, because, seriously, what the hell was going on? He could be a little naive sometimes, but he'd have to be willfully blind not to notice that something wasn't right.

Cisco licked his lip and narrowed his eyes at Barry, who was still sitting on the couch, shoes next to his bare feet. "You really don't look good. Maybe you should stay here."

Barry had his shoes on and was at the door in a second. "I'm good."

"You're not good."

Fair enough. "I'm good enough."

"Right." Cisco sighed and nodded to himself. "We're talking about this later."

Barry stepped out into the hall and let Cisco close and lock the door. It didn't occur to him that they weren't heading for the parking garage until they'd stepped past the night receptionist and onto the street. "Are we walking? I thought your brother lived in the suburbs?"

Cisco looked up and down the street, then pulled Barry away from the front door and dropped his voice low so anyone walking past couldn't hear them. Not that anyone was walking past them at 5:30 in the morning. "Here's the thing. My brother doesn't need help with anything."

"Then why are we going over there?"

"We aren't. That was Caitlin. She wants us to meet her at her place."

"What?" Why hadn't he just said that in the first place?

"Yeah, and that's not even the weirdest part."

* * *

"Cisco, Barry, thank you for coming eleven flights up a fire escape, balancing on the railing, stretching out the apparently three feet that separates said railing from my bathroom window, and climbing through that window at five forty in the morning, thus proving that my apartment is not nearly as secure as I thought it was."

Barry's polite nod was interrupted by a yawn, which earned him a slap on the thigh from Cisco when his own yawn overtook him. The run over had calmed his nerves. He was still a little shaky, but mostly just exhausted and really, really hungry. Caitlin was standing by her door, wearing rumbled, pink and red plaid pajamas. Cisco had taken a seat on the toilet lid with Barry leaning against the wall next to him. All three of them looked ready to fall over at any given moment.

He noted Caitlin stifling a yawn of her own as he tried to comfort her. "If it makes you feel any better, I was moving at super speed."

"Considering our enemies, it doesn't, but the sentiment is appreciated."

Right, because if no one had noticed Barry, they certainly weren't going to notice Thawne, who could move even faster and Barry doubted something as small as an eleven floor walk up would be much of a deterrent for meta-humans like peak-a-boo or any of the Rogues.

He looked around the room and redirected to the task at hand. "So, why are we all in your bathroom? It's a very nice bathroom, by the way. Spacious."

She nodded with a tense smile. "Thank you."

Cisco shook his head. "No, no, no, I want to know why _he's_ here." He pointed at Hartley, who was sitting a good ten feet away on the side of tub, dressed in his Pied Piper outfit, from the hooded cape to the boots. "How the hell do you manage to show up to every meeting we have, even when it's in Caitlin's bathroom at five in the morning? Seriously, man, how?"

"Maybe you're just that predictable."

Before Cisco could lash back, Caitlin spoke up. "Actually, Hartley's the reason we're here."

With Hartley pretty much a constant for the last month, Barry had gotten used to him being around and it hadn't even occurred to him to question the scientist's presence in Caitlin's bathroom, which, now that he thought about it, was a little strange. Especially since Caitlin had agreed with them that they couldn't trust him. Barry really looked at Hartley and for the first time since he'd arrived, noticed the tension in the smaller man's body. His posture was relaxed, but every line was tight, like he was ready to get up and move at a moment's notice. Whatever was about to happen, he didn't expect it to be taken well.

Caitlin glanced at Barry, hesitating for just a moment longer. "Thawne has our apartments wired."

The silence was stifling. Cisco stared at her in open shock before looking at Hartley, then back to Caitlin and asked, "Wired?"

She nodded gravely. "Not just our apartments. The lab, Detective West's house, the police station, Jitters, even Iris's works."

Barry couldn't… he couldn't breathe. He automatically glanced up at the corners of the bathroom, noting the absence of the pinpoints of red light, but then whatever cameras Thawne was using to spy on them, must not have those, or they would have noticed them by now.

Distantly, he heard Hartley saying, "The only places he doesn't put cameras are the bathrooms, because apparently, that's where he draws the line. Trust me, I'm as shocked as you are. And closets. He doesn't really bother with closets."

It was bad enough having the safety of S.T.A.R. Labs violated, but Cisco's apartment? His room at Joe's? Even Jitters? Where was he supposed to go after this? He looked at the door to the bathroom, closed and barred by Caitlin. The cameras were just on the other side of that, probably watching that door, waiting for it to open.

The Reverse-Flash hadn't come to take him back, because he didn't need to. He'd always known where Barry was, even when he wasn't at S.T.A.R. Labs. He'd been watching and just the thought made Barry's skin crawl. Had he been watching the last week, while Barry had been tentatively feeling out the boundaries of his new relationship with Cisco? How much had he seen?

Oh, god, he probably had one in Dr. Rayburn's office.

While he tried to wade through the barrage of emotions flooding over him – shock, anger, fear, all suffocating him – Cisco stayed where he was seating, his voice low with suspicion. "And you know about this how?"

"I've been working with him." Hartley hadn't hesitated, but there wouldn't have been a point. There was only one way he could know about those cameras and still be alive.

"For how long?"

Caitlin stood straighter. "Cisco…"

"How long?"

"Since I came back after you were taken." He didn't even sound ashamed and Barry wanted to be angry with him, he really did, but he just felt sick.

Cisco stood, his eyes narrow. "Eres hombre muerto."

Hartley stood too, more defensive then aggressive, spouting rapid fire Spanish that Barry couldn't hope to follow with his limited knowledge of the language. He might not have understood the exact words they were shouting at each other, but he understood the sentiment well enough. Cisco was yelling accusations and threats, Hartley was making excuses. From the escalation, Barry wouldn't doubt there were insults on both sides.

Did the cameras have speakers? Would Thawne be able to hear what was being said even if he couldn't see it? Did he speak Spanish? Probably, not that it mattered. There were only so many reasons the four of them would sneak into Caitlin's bathroom this early in the morning. Or ever.

Caitlin had moved to stand in front of Cisco, preventing him from advancing further across the room. Barry should help, if Cisco really decided to go for it, he wasn't sure Caitlin would be able stop him, but Barry couldn't make himself move.

Caitlin pressed her hands into Cisco's shoulders firmly. "Cisco, this isn't helping."

"I don't care if it helps. I'm going beat the shi…"

"Cisco!" He stepped back at her raised voice. "Just hear him out."

"Why? He betrayed us."

"I didn't betray anyone." Hartley sounded so goddamn smug. "I never said anything about being part of Team Flash. I said I was bored, I offered to make myself useful. That's a far cry from any kind of loyalty."

Barry clenched his hands into fists so tight they vibrated. Every instinct in him said to run. Thawne was always two, sometimes three steps ahead of them and this was why. He'd been watching, waiting, planning while they'd been scrambling around in the dark. He wouldn't be surprised if Thawne had known Barry was going to change the timeline, if that's what he'd wanted in the first place. The bigger question was, as always, why.

A few feet away, Caitlin was still standing between them, trying to get Cisco to listen to reason, or Hartley to stop making it worse with snide comments. Barry couldn't quite keep the laugh in. There really wasn't anything funny about any of this, but a month ago it was him holding Caitlin back from offering to trade Hartley for Cisco and there was a tiny little vicious part of him that almost regretted not letting her. Of course, if they'd done that, they never would have found out about the cameras at all, or at least, not until Thawne wanted them to, but that didn't exclude the possibility that this whole thing was an orchestrated set up. Hartley might have come on his own but he might not have and even if he had, that didn't mean Thawne didn't want him to do exactly what he was doing.

His head was swimming, but on the plus side, everyone had stopped yelling. Barry slid down the wall into a crouch, because his legs were shaking and it was either sit down or fall. He'd just started to fist his hands into his hair when familiar fingers pried them open and pulled Barry's hands down.

"Hey, man, I'm sorry. I got mad, I wasn't thinking. Are you okay?" He shook his head, more to say it wasn't Cisco's fault. "Barry, you gotta look at me. You're hyperventilating."

He managed a shaky nod and now that Cisco pointed it out, he was right. Barry's chest was heaving, his vision was tunneled. Breathe in, hold, count to ten, release. Breathe in, hold, count to nine, release. Focus on something else. Cisco's hands, warm against his, fingers laced together.

On the other side of the room, Hartley sighed. "I told you we should have kept him out of this."

Cisco turned away long enough to glare at Hartley before putting his attention back on Barry. Caitlin rounded on the other scientist with ice cold anger. "And I told you that wasn't going to happen. He has a right to know."

"Yes, _after_ the cameras were off. _After_ we had our answers. Look at him. There's no way he can walk in there like this, let alone…"

"I can do it." Barry looked past Cisco to Hartley. "Whatever… whatever it is, I can do it."

Hartley sneered. "I doubt that."

Pulling his hands away from Cisco, Barry pushed himself up to his feet and met the sneer with determination. "I can do it."

"Really?" Hartley raised his eyebrows and moved to step forward, only to have Caitlin get between him and Barry. He barely afforded her a glance. "I want to destroy Eobard, or more to the point, I want to destroy whatever it is he's trying to achieve here, but I can't do that if I don't know what it is."

Cisco interrupted. "Get to the point, Hartley."

"He has a computer, future tech, AI, highly intelligent. Everything I need to know, everything you _want_ to know is in there. I can't access it, Barry can."

The entire room went silent. Barry's heart was still beating too fast, but he was frozen in place. How the hell was he supposed to access something Hartley couldn't? Hartley Rathaway was a genius. He was right up there with Cisco and Barry knew stuff, he'd read books and Cisco and Caitlin were teaching him as they went, but he lacked the practical experience Hartley had and especially with something that he was referring to as future tech…

"What do you think Barry can do that you can't?" Apparently, Cisco was thinking the same thing.

Hartley didn't break eye contact with Barry. "I said it was future tech, as in Eobard brought it back with him from the future. According to the computer, it was created by you, Barry Allen, the Flash, and it will answer any questions you ask."

Cisco looked back at Barry with wide eyes and Barry shrugged helplessly. It wasn't like he had some super secret computer schematics lying around the apartment. He still wasn't entirely convinced he could get through a single day on a college campus without breaking down, let alone get far enough in his education to be able to build an artificially intelligent computer that was apparently advanced enough for Thawne to bring it with him from the future.

That was… he didn't even know what that was.

"Okay, so, I ask it questions. How? Where is it?" Would Thawne keep something like that linked to the computer at S.T.A.R. Labs, or were they going to have to break into his house? Was he even at his house? It wasn't like they'd been staking the place out. They'd checked it out immediately after, but there had been more important things to deal with.

There was a heavy pause before Hartley finally answered, his expression saying 'I told you so' before he'd even spoken. "His secret room in S.T.A.R. Labs. The primary one."

"Yeah, that'll be a no." Cisco spoke before Barry could even process what he'd heard.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I not make myself clear? If you want answers, this is how we get them. I've tried everything else, Cisco. It's not like he keeps a thumb drive lying around with all his evil plans on it."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you lied to us."

"Boys!" Caitlin took a deep breath that sounded more like a sigh. "Cisco, you need to calm down and listen. I may not agree with what Hartley's done, but he's right. We need answers and that's the best way to get them. Hartley, stop being antagonistic, it isn't helping."

It was a lot to take in. Not just the idea of walking in there again, he'd been building up to that and maybe he wasn't as ready as he'd have liked to be, but he could do it if he had to. No, it was everything else on top of that. The dream and the cameras. He couldn't stop glancing up into the corners, even though he knew they weren't there. Strangely enough, he thought Hartley may have been right. They probably shouldn't have told him about that until after it was done.

He wanted answers, though. Cisco had managed to get some in his time with Thawne, but those only left him with more questions. He'd orchestrated turning Barry into the Flash, but why? And why let him go after?

Barry was painfully aware of how broken he had been at the end. Even with access to the same kind of speed Thawne had, Barry wouldn't have stood a chance against him, if only because he didn't think he could do it. Thawne could have kept him there easily and with S.T.A.R. Labs more or less abandoned, he'd have all the time in the world to convince Barry to go along with whatever he wanted. Not to sound ungrateful, but why hadn't he?

Hartley said he wanted to stop whatever Eobard was planning and Barry believed him for the most part. That put them on the same team. He met Hartley's eyes and nodded. "You have a plan?"

There was a little surprise in the cock of Hartley's head and the quirk of his lips. "The three of you go down to the room, talk to Gideon."

"Gideon?"

"The AI. Its name is Gideon, but you'll have to be specific. It's a computer, so it takes things very literally. Find out what Thawne is planning, in detail. I need something I can use. Then ask whatever you want. I can give you ten, maybe fifteen minutes if I get creative."

It sounded easy enough, probably a little too easy, which made Barry wonder. "Where will you be?"

Hartley ducked his head for just a second and when he looked up, he was smiling, but there was nothing pleasant about it. "I'll be keeping Eobard… distracted."

A stifling silence filled the room. Caitlin was looking at the floor, Hartley stared back at Barry with unwavering eye contact, like a dare, but what could he possibly… It hit Barry with a sick certainty, about the same time he heard Cisco say, "Distracted, as in…?"

Hartley wagged his eyebrows suggestively and Barry's stomach twisted. Just the idea of Hartley doing _that_ with Thawne made him want to take a hot shower and scrub several layers of skin off. Of all the things Hartley had been honest about so far, Barry was really, really wishing he'd lied about that. Not that they would have believed it, but why couldn't Hartley have said he was going to play a quick game of chess or something, anything but the truth?

Cisco took a step back, his arm brushing against Barry's as the implication hit him. "What the hell, man? How can you…?"

He couldn't get the words out, but the meaning was more then obvious to everyone in the room. Hartley didn't seem particularly phased by Cisco's obvious disgust. "I needed him to think I was desperate to be in his good graces. Nothing says desperate like getting on your knees to…"

Cisco held up a hand, turning away. "No, no, that's… just, no. TMI, dude."

Hartley smirked and continued on with his plan while Cisco shuddered with his arms wrapped protectively around himself. "You all go about your normal morning routines. Breakfast, shower, early morning cuddles, do your best not to look too traumatized. Then head to the lab around nine. I'll message you when I'm ready. Make it quick and he'll know you've been in there, so we get one shot at this."

Go about their normal morning routine, knowing he could be watching them. Barry wasn't entirely sure he could do that and look convincing, but it wasn't like he had a choice. Then again, as long as he could keep himself from actively looking for cameras, he would probably be okay. Any strange behavior on his part could be explained away as simply Barry having an off day. It was going to be harder on Caitlin and Cisco, who didn't have a handy excuse for slipping.

More importantly, was how far Barry was willing to trust Hartley. There was just enough desperation in Hartley's defensive tactics to convince Barry they were genuine, but it still might be better to have backup.

"Cisco?"

Cisco sighed heavily, but nodded. "I'm in if you're in."

"Caitlin?"

"It's up to you."

Barry turned back to Hartley. "I've got one condition."

* * *

Don't look up.

That was Barry's entire plan for pretending he didn't know. It was a lot harder then it sounded. He had to focus on his hands, his food, close his eyes sometimes, anything to stop from scanning the room for indications of where the cameras might be.

Every fiber of his body itched to search the room at super speed and find them. Knowing they were there and doing nothing reminded him of being in the room. He'd spent hours glaring at the cameras, making rude gestures, yelling sometimes even though he was never really certain he was being heard. Later, in his more petulant moments, he'd hidden under the sheets or the bed itself.

It was been nerve racking to sit or stand around the apartment for hours, not knowing if he was being watched. Hell, Thawne could be taking a nap for all they knew and Hartley refused to tell them where the evil bastard was hiding because, in his words, "You're a hero, Barry. You'll forget the plan and try to catch him yourself and you'll fail and then he'll get away and I'll lose any chance I had of getting my answers. Not to mention, I'll probably end up dead. As it is, I have culpable deniability and I'm a good lay."

Barry hadn't pushed the issue, mostly because he was afraid Hartley would elaborate on what he meant by 'a good lay,' if only because he knew that would shut Barry up.

After two and a half hours of forcing himself to stay still, Felicity finally messaged him back, asking if he was up so they could meet for coffee before she and Ray drove back to Starling. This was it, his one condition. He didn't think Hartley was lying, but he needed to be sure there wasn't more that he wasn't telling them. Barry could do his part with the AI, but he wanted someone to hack Thawne's personal computer at S.T.A.R. Labs and there wasn't anyone better at hacking then Felicity Smoak. The problem was letting her in on the plan.

 _Not Jitters. We're on our way to S.T.A.R. Labs, meet us there._

While he waited for the response, he knocked on the bathroom door. When he heard the shower curtain sliding open along the rod, he called through the door. "Hey, Felicity texted."

His phone vibrated with her reply. _We'll pick up java on the way. You want anything?_

He started to type out I'm good, but second guessed himself. It might look suspicious. _One of those caramel things with loads of calories._

"You want anything from Jiiiii…." He was still staring at his phone as he talked through the closed door, so when it opened midway through his sentence, he hadn't been expecting it. More importantly, he hadn't been expecting to see Cisco standing in the door in nothing but a towel.

It wasn't like he'd never seen that before. It was more that he'd never really looked. Sometimes, when Cisco was in a hurry, he forgot to take his clothes with him into the bathroom, or sometimes he didn't realize Barry was there, because super speed meant he could get in and out without being heard. Mostly, though, when that happened, Barry just kept doing whatever he was doing and didn't think anything of it. It was just a thing that happened.

That was before.

Before he kissed Cisco, before they started dating, before he'd called Cisco his boyfriend, and, most importantly, before he'd come to the decision that he wanted to have sex with said boyfriend. Who was standing in front of him naked except for a towel, which, again, shouldn't be a big deal, but it suddenly really, really was. It was suddenly really hard not to stare at the dark wet hair dropping water onto Cisco's bare shoulders, or follow that water as it made wet tracks down Cisco's chest and abdomen on its way to…

"What was that?"

Barry blinked, looking back up from where his eyes had started moving down. "What?"

"You were saying something? About Felicity."

"Oh, right." He gulped back the rise of panic. It wasn't the normal kind. In fact, it reminded him strongly of when he'd wanted to kiss Cisco, but he didn't have time to analyze that now. "Felicity and Ray are picking up coffee on their way to S.T.A.R. Labs. You want anything?"

Cisco shrugged, raking his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face, his expression tight and uncomfortable. "Nah, I'm good. I'll catch up."

What was…? Oh, god, the cameras. He'd completely forgotten. How had he forgotten? "Right, so… I'll go on ahead."

Cisco nodded, obviously distracted as he made his way to the closet. As hard as it was for Barry to pretend everything was normal, it had to be harder on Cisco and Caitlin. Barry's moods fluctuated on a fairly regular basis, something his therapist assured him was perfectly normal. Good days, bad days. He could wake up in the morning just happy to be outside and go to bed wanting to shut himself away and never set foot outside the door ever again. Not that Cisco had gotten out of his stay with Thawne completely unscathed, but it was mostly things like putting a white noise maker in the bedroom because he couldn't sleep if it was too quiet.

Thankfully, they only had to get through the next few hours and it would be over. They could take down the cameras and without those they might actually stand a chance of stopping Thawne, especially if they were able get answers from Gideon.

He rushed out the door and through the streets of Central City, not stopping until he was in the back seat of Felicity's car in the parking lot of their hotel. Felicity was already in the front, key in the ignition, while Ray sat in the passenger seat, taking up more then his share of space with his knees crammed uncomfortably against the dash. Barry had just enough time to note that she'd been right about Ray's size in comparison to her car – there was no way the two of them were doing anything other then driving in there – before the whoosh of air alerted them to his presence.

"Oh my god, Barry!" Felicity held a hand up to her chest, then reached back and swatted him a few times before leaning into the driver's side door, panting softly. "That is not okay!"

Ray looked startled, but mostly amused by Felicity's reaction. "Hey, I thought we were meeting you at S.T.A.R. Labs?"

"Yeah, about that."

* * *

Caitlin was already at S.T.A.R. Labs when he got there. Cisco showed up ten minutes later and they sat around the cortex trying to act normal while they waited for Felicity and Ray to show. Barry kept himself occupied with his phone, breezing through mahjong and Sudoku at super speed. Caitlin went over her data from tests she'd run weeks ago. Cisco ate candy and stared at his computer screen blankly. If Thawne was watching, it wouldn't take him long to figure out something was up.

Felicity and Ray's arrival helped. They were surprisingly good at pretending everything was normal. With bright smiles and offerings of sweetened caffeine, the two of them talked animatedly about the company, Felicity's new job, what was going on with the Arrow in the Starling City. Barry got the distinct feeling Ray didn't know about Oliver's secret identity, so he let them lead the conversation. Felicity was really, really good at this. Scary good, actually. Barry was going to have to ask her for tips, because he couldn't keep himself still, let alone focus on what he should or shouldn't say.

As soon as the clock rolled over to nine thirty, he sent his text to Hartley. _Felicity and Ray stopped by. They're leaving soon._

It took twenty minutes before he got the message back. _I'm busy._

Standing, Barry shoved the phone at Cisco with a short nod. "Hey, Felicity, would you mind taking a look at Dr. Wells' computer before you leave?"

She nodded enthusiastically and held her arm out for Ray, who didn't falter as they followed Caitlin. As soon as they were out of sight, Cisco took his queue. "So, I could use some serious moral support if you think you can manage going down to the room. I wanted to see if there was maybe anything we missed."

It was meant to look natural, in case Thawne went back over the feed, which Hartley assured them was more than probably. Felicity and Ray had managed natural. He was pretty sure the conversation between him and Cisco came off as forced and scripted, which is was, but it wasn't like they'd been able to rehearse.

The walk down was tense and quiet. They were just out of the elevator when Cisco took Barry's hand and Barry looked back, a little surprised, but even more so when he saw how pale Cisco was.

"Are you okay?"

Cisco nodded, his hand gripping Barry's a little too tightly. "Yeah, just, you know, I kind of _died_ in there, so… not my favorite place to be."

Barry could have kicked himself. He hadn't even thought about that. With everyone focused on him and whether he could do it, it hadn't even occurred to ask if Cisco was okay with this. He'd like to think Cisco would have told him if he wasn't, but maybe not.

"If you don't want to, I can…"

"What? No! You and me. We do this together, right?"

They'd stopped in front of the wall and Barry stared at it with a sinking feeling. "Right."

"Then we go piss off the military, steal a tank."

It was unexpected enough that Barry couldn't help the burst of laughter and some of the tension eased. The wall lit up under his palm and he reminded himself that as much as it felt like walking back into his prison, it wasn't. This wasn't the room, there weren't any cameras here, because Thawne hadn't been willing to risk them being hacked and someone seeing him.

He squeezed Cisco's hand and they stepped into the room together.

The lights faded on, filling the room with soft light. The Reverse-Flash suit was gone. The podium was there, but the holographic image of the newspaper Cisco had mentioned was missing.

Barry hesitated for just a moment longer. Hartley had told him what to do, but it still felt a little strange talking to an empty room. With a helpless shrug at Cisco, he stepped up to the podium. "Gideon?"

"Good evening, Barry Allen."

Barry stepped back several steps, nearly tripping over Cisco, whose mouth had dropped open. It wasn't like Hartley hadn't warned them that the computer was a vocal interface. Barry fully expected it to talk back to him, what he wasn't expecting was the giant holographic head that appeared directly in front of him.

"You… you're Gideon?"

"Yes, an interactive artificial consciousness."

Cisco stepped up to stand by Barry. "Oh, man, that is _sick_."

"I, uh… I created you?"

"That is correct."

On the plus side, any anxiety he had about being there had been smothered by the shock. On the other hand, he was having a serious conversation with Hartley about what constituted a fair warning. Vocal interface was one thing. Giant floating head was something else entirely. Cisco gripped his arm, squeezing. "Okay, next semester you are enrolling in some serious computer science courses, but right now, we have to hurry."

"Right, sorry." Direct, specific questions. "Gideon, what does Eobard Thawne want?"

"To return home."

Cisco was moved forward to peer around the head, which shrank back to form a full bodied person and Cisco bit his fist, his other arm crossing his chest in barely contained excitement.

"Home? To the future?"

"Yes."

"He can't go back the way he came?"

"His connection to the Speedforce has been damaged."

Cisco nodded, pointing his finger at Gideon. "Yeah, he said that. He lost his connection, but he said he fixed it."

Gideon looked at Cisco for a moment before turning back to Barry, who was trying to find the best words to get the answers they needed. "Gideon, why can't he use the Speedforce? What's stopping him?"

"His connection to the Speedforce has been damaged."

This was getting them nowhere. Direct questions, direct answers. "How is he going to get home?"

"He's going to use you."

"He's what?"

"He's going to use you."

Barry's phone vibrated in Cisco's hand, making both of them jump. "Get to the good stuff, man."

"How? How is he going to use me?"

"He's going to use your connection to the Speedforce to open a wormhole into the time continuum."

Cisco looked at Barry, eyes wide and staring. "You can do that?"

"I don't know!"

"You did change the timeline."

"That was one day!" It was less then a day and it was backwards. How was he supposed to travel hundreds of years into the future and take Thawne with him in the process?

The phone vibrated again and Cisco cringed, rapidly typing out a text into the phone. "We've gotta problem. If we don't want to blow Hartley's cover, Felicity has to cut the feed like now."

Barry took a moment to consider saying screw you to Hartley's cover, but they did kind of owe him. Like a lot and the only way Hartley had agreed to involve Felicity was if she helped him maintain his cover. As soon as they gave the word, she was going to 'stumble' across the camera feed and cut it. The odds were good that Thawne had some kind of alarm rigged to them in case they were tampered with. Hartley had assured them that Thawne wouldn't want to draw attention to himself by going after Felicity, Ray, and Caitlin, but Barry wasn't so sure. He'd rather be there with them, just in case Thawne decided to get vindictive.

"Barry…"

"I know." There was one last thing he needed to do. "Gideon, you'll do anything I tell you?"

"Of course."

"Don't tell Eobard Thawne we talked to you."

* * *

Felicity 'stumbled' across the cameras a few minutes after Cisco sent the message. Despite Hartley insisting Thawne wouldn't want to draw attention to himself, Barry still expected some kind of attack when she cut the feed. It didn't come. Hartley showed up half an hour later, saying Eobard's only complaint was that it took them this long to figure it out. Although, he had taken Gideon offline, as expected.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to… be somewhere else while you say your goodbyes."

Barry considered following him, but it wasn't like he didn't know where Hartley was going. There was an office at the other end of the corridor that he'd been using as a room for the past few weeks.

As they walked out to the parking lot, Felicity lagged behind, taking Barry with her. "How are you doing?"

He thought about it. "Okay. For now."

It would sink in later and he'd deal with the ramification then. Not to mention, there was still his nightmare from the night before to deal with and the fact it was probably the first of many. They tended to come in waves.

She held out a thumb drive for him and he took it with a questioning frown. "What's this?"

"For what it's worth, I think you can trust Hartley." He stopped and she did as well, letting the others move head while they talked. "You aren't the only one Thawne liked to watch. I didn't find much on his computer. I'll bet he kept most of his files in that AI of his, but there was one folder that had a few password protected videos. I took a look and they're of him and Hartley, before the explosion."

"I know Hartley lied to you. I know he put Cisco in danger, but if you want my opinion? He was hurt and angry." Barry opened his mouth to argue, but she shook her head. "I may not know Hartley personally, but I do know what it's like to be taken advantage of. I know what it's like to think you know someone and how much it hurts when they disappoint you. Give him a chance."

He tucked the drive into his pocket and tried not to think about it. Once Felicity and Ray were gone, Cisco and Caitlin went with him to take down the cameras – first in S.T.A.R. Labs, then their apartments, Joe's house, Iris met them at her and Eddie's apartment and tried not to look too wigged out as they worked.

What Felicity had said stuck with him, though; the idea that Hartley might have felt betrayed by a person he thought was his friend, his mentor, his lover. The mental image of them together made Barry sick, but how had it made Hartley feel when he'd found out about Barry? Of course, Hartley had tried to kill him that one time, but he hadn't tried since then and it would have been easy – Barry didn't exactly keep his guard up in the lab – and if Hartley hadn't opened up to them about everything? It wasn't as if they were open with him.

By the time they'd finished and carted the tech back to S.T.A.R. Labs, Barry had more or less made up his mind. He waited until Cisco was busy taking apart the first camera, intently examining the circuitry in a way that suggested he was going to be busy for a while then went to find Hartley.

It didn't take long. He was in the bunker, looking over the force field data. "What are you doing?"

Hartley didn't bother looking up from the computer. "Checking the read outs. While you three are busy playing hero, someone needs to keep .R. Labs in the black. Your little antics bleed money. I think there may be something here we can patent and market without compromising Team Flash's ever important ethics."

S.T.A.R. Labs had numerous patents in its names, research and data that still fed money into the company, which was set on an automatic system that kept everyone paid and the building running. However, now that Barry thought about it, none of them had been particularly interested in the business side of things and Hartley was right, between his constantly damaged suits, the medical supplies they used when he got injured, and running the illegal jail, they probably put out more then they pulled in.

"Did you need something?"

"We got the cameras." He pulled the drive out and looked at it for a second before setting it on the table next to the keyboard.

"Felicity found something?"

"Nothing we can use, just a few videos Thawne kept." Hartley's hands froze over the keyboard, just for a moment, but it was enough. "You knew they were there."

Hartley nodded, but didn't move to pick up the drive.

"Why didn't you delete them?"

With a sigh, Hartley stood up to face Barry. "We were never in a relationship, not in the traditional sense, but I did trust him. I kept thinking there had to be something I missed, but… I didn't miss anything. The only thing he ever promised was that if I stayed by his side, we'd make history. It's to my own detriment that I didn't ask for clarification on what that history was." He paused. "I knew Ms. Smoak would find them, but if I'd stopped by his office to wipe the hard drive, he might have noticed."

Which was saying a lot without saying anything. He didn't have to tell them about the cameras to tell them about Gideon and Barry didn't miss the bitterness in Hartley's tone, or the defensiveness of his posture. Hartley was a lot of things and most of them weren't pleasant, but Barry was coming to realization that, just as Felicity had said, he wasn't necessarily a bad person. "The first time we fought, why did you try to kill me?"

Hartley's mouth quirked into something resembling a smile but dropped just as quickly. "If it's any consolation, I'm glad it didn't work. All I really wanted was to prove I was better than you, that I could beat him at his own game. I just got caught up in it and… like I said, I'm glad it didn't work."

It wasn't an apology, but Barry didn't really need that. What he'd needed was the truth and that was exactly what Hartley had given him. "I get it. You were vulnerable and he used you…"

"I was _not_ …"

"Your parents kicked you out. He took you in. You looked up to him. He took advantage of that. Then when you stood up to him, he threw you out, as well."

He'd spent all day thinking about it and he couldn't imagine how hard that must have been. Barry may have been hurt and abused and outright tortured, but that had been at the hands of a stranger. The people that mattered to him, his friends and family, he had always been able to trust them. Dr. Wells turning out to be the Reverse-Flash had hurt, but in a way, he'd never really trusted him. For Hartley, everyone he was supposed to be able to trust had let him down.

Hartley looked at Barry out of the corner of his eye, tense and expectant. "What do you want, Barry?"

Like this understanding came with an ultimatum or conditions. Felicity was right. "Not much. I'm going to zip out and grab some food then we're having a meeting in the cortex. You're welcome to join."

It was the first time any of them had given Hartley a heads up on a meeting, let alone asked him to join and if Hartley didn't immediately jump on it, Barry hadn't expected him to. Instead, he left without waiting for a reply. He'd extended the invitation and it was up to Hartley to accept it.

* * *

"So, we're trusting Hartley now?"

Barry stared up at the ceiling. "We're trusting Hartley."

They were lying next to each other on their bed in the apartment, noise maker filling the room with static, light from the kitchen giving a soft illumination, and neither of them able to get comfortable. Barry couldn't stop looking at the light fixture in the dining room where they'd found the camera, perfectly angled to watch them, whether they were in the bed or on the couch. It was a small apartment, no need for more than one.

"Just so we're clear. I don't agree with it."

"Noted."

Cisco rolled over to face him. "You really think he's on our side?"

"I think he's on his side, which happens to be the same side we're on, for now."

"That's not very reassuring."

No, but it was the truth. Hartley wasn't Team Flash just yet, but he was working with them. He'd been a little disappointed with what they'd gotten from Gideon, but said he could work with it. He'd then mumbled to himself about scenarios and probabilities and needing Cisco's help with something in the morning. It was a start.

Barry turned as well, putting his back to the open bedroom door. He tucked his arm under the head and tried to pretend the need to turn back around wasn't eating at him.

Cisco licked his lip. "Hey, so, what was up this morning?"

It took him a second to pin down that Cisco was talking about his nightmare and then a few more seconds to decide what to say. It wasn't like he didn't want to tell him, but… no, okay, he really didn't want to tell him, but he kind of felt like he had to. Not just for himself, but for Cisco, who deserved to know what he was getting himself into.

"I had a nightmare."

"Yeah?"

Barry faltered. They all knew what had been done to him, but saying it was completely different. He barely talked about it with Dr. Rayburn. "It was about the first time he… I kept asking myself whether I wanted sex and I guess it just, you know, got into my head and…"

He dragged in a deep breath and was relieved when Cisco didn't try and say anything. It was hard enough getting this out without interruption.

"I didn't even understand what he was doing. He'd never hinted at that. I just figured it was another beating and I was too exhausted to really fight him on it until he… and I did fight. When I realized what he was doing I tried to get him off me, but I was half starved and sleep deprived and he was a lot bigger than me back then."

"You were sixteen."

"Maybe seventeen, but it doesn't matter. That's what I was dreaming about when the phone rang."

The room filled with white noise again as Cisco thought it over. "Barry, you can change your mind. I'm okay if…"

"No. No changing my mind." He pushed up onto his elbow. "Besides, first we have to deal with Thawne, then we can figure the rest out."

"No, first we find a new place to live, then we deal with Thawne, and then everything else."

Before Barry could question him on it, Cisco added, "Don't think I haven't noticed. You look over there every thirty seconds and I'm not doing any better. Besides, _he_ was the one that found this place and it's just… creepy. We'll manage tonight, but I really don't want to stay here any longer than I have to."

He could try to argue, but there wasn't much of a point. He wasn't sure he wanted to stay there either. "Your neighbors will be thrilled."

"Not really. Ms. Farrow stopped me the other day and said you were a nice young man and a good influence on me."

"Well, now we have to move. You're reputation is ruined."

It wouldn't be easy finding a new place. Cisco's paychecks weren't as big as they used to be. Back when Barry first woke up, Dr. Wells had put him on the S.T.A.R. Labs' payroll. On paper, he was a lab assistant. In reality, it was a way to help cover his food costs and therapy, because Joe would have gone broke otherwise. Income aside, the lab itself wasn't going to look good on an application for either of them, especially since Dr. Wells wasn't exactly available to vouch for their continuing employment.

There were definitely a few lower income areas of Central City they could check out, but that was going to take time, especially when they took into consideration his needs as the Flash. An idea hit him and it wasn't ideal, but it was maybe better.

"Hey, what about Joe's house?"

Cisco frowned. "What?"

"He keeps saying he's lonely without Iris and the house is too quiet. I know there were cameras there too, but it's… I don't know, home. I've always felt safe there. Just until we find another place?"

"In your old room? I mean, we could get the bed and the television in there, but there's no way my computer fits."

"There's a basement. Joe uses it for storage, but it's mostly finished and there's central air."

At first, he didn't think Cisco would go for it. Not that he blamed him and he wasn't going to push the issue either way. Then Cisco nodded. "Okay, talk to him tomorrow. If he's cool, I'm cool."

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not. He really said the house is too quiet?"

"He did. Repeatedly."

Cisco grinned. "Man, he is so gonna regret that."


	12. The End of the Beginning

**Author's Note:** I said to myself, "Self, this was supposed to be a short fic. Short. Like three chapters, max. Now look what you've done? You're a 30,000 words in and you know you're not even halfway there. You're doing the whole first season, aren't you? So help me, you had better have this finished before Season Two starts or there will be consequences." And I did it! Which is a relief, because when I threaten myself, I am not playing around.

I've gone through and re-read the fic, doing a few minor edits, because I'm obsessive that way and because it gives me a reason to flog myself over the stupid, stupid things I missed the first time around. Seriously.

 **Summary:** It's not really the end, even if it kind of is and loving someone means wanting what's best for them, even when it totally sucks.

* * *

 **The End of the Beginning**

As much as Barry hated their makeshift meta-prison, he couldn't think of a better use for it. Knowing Eobard Thawne was there, stuck in his own private little cell, made Barry feel… good and also a little sick that he could feel such profound relief at another person's captivity, but mostly, he just wanted to walk out the door, go home and play video games while Thawne rotted down there.

"Barry, man, talk to me."

"Not yet."

It wasn't that he didn't understand, it was just… he wanted this over. He wanted it to be done. He was worn out and hungry and really, really tired of the emotional roller coaster that he'd been on since Thawne had let him go and he hated that. He hated that little part of him that sometimes thought at least things weren't this complicated in the room. It had been pretty simple, all things considered – eat, sleep, read – if his captor was feeling generous there was the occasional thousand piece puzzle – and get beaten whenever said captor wasn't having a good day. It was painful, mind-numbingly boring and he was pretty sure he'd been going insane, but it was simple.

Distantly, he was aware of Cisco shifting uncomfortably in his chair, watching Barry sit on the treadmill with a blank expression.

It wasn't like he wanted to go back, or anything, but at least there hadn't been people looking to him for something he wasn't sure he could give. They needed him to talk to Thawne, because Thawne insisted on talking to him and no one else. Well, that wasn't strictly true. He'd make small talk, but nothing on how to turn off the accelerator or how he intended to use Barry to get back to the future. He had to be there for a reason. Thawne hadn't just walk up to S.T.A.R. Labs and picked a fight for the hell of it. Or maybe he had, they wouldn't know until Barry went down there and asked.

"Dude, I love you, I really do, and I don't want to pressure you, but…"

"Almost there."

From the other side of the room, he heard a familiar, labored sigh. Hartley must have come down to see what was taking so long, which, screw him. This wasn't easy. As much as he'd wanted to catch Thawne and get all of his questions answered, he'd never actually stopped to consider how that was going to happen. He'd spent the entire run to Nanda Parbat and back coming to the realization that they'd finally done it. They'd caught him. He wasn't going anywhere and Barry almost didn't want or need anymore answers. Gideon said he was going to use Barry to travel back into the future and that wasn't happening. Game over.

Except there was still the accelerator and the mystery power source. Hartley and Cisco had fought for hours over how it might work and what it was, but they both agreed attempting to turn it off without knowing what they were doing was a bad idea. Like blow an _actual_ hole in the city kind of bad idea. Barry might not have understood half of what they'd said, but he did know that when Hartley and Cisco agreed on something, that was it.

What all of that meant was they needed Thawne to talk and he'd agreed to do so only to Barry. It was control. The whole damn thing was about control and as much as Barry wanted to walk away and show Thawne exactly how much control he didn't have, the unfortunate truth was he did have leverage to get at least part of what he wanted. Barry wasn't helping him do anything, least of all get home, but he did have to talk to him.

Standing up, Barry nodded. "Okay, let's do this."

Cisco and Hartley trailing behind as he walked down the hall. They'd already had some discussion about this before Barry had run out of the cortex and taken a time out in Cisco's lab to get himself together.

He'd go in alone, but the cameras would be on. It was a matter of Barry's safety. Thawne had built the accelerator, he'd helped convert the pods into cells and there was a good chance that he'd put some kind of fail safe in there to allow himself to get out. While Hartley and Cisco had gone over the interior multiple times, neither of them felt comfortable saying there was no chance of escape.

Knowing his friends and family, the people he trusted, were on the other end of the feed made it easier. Not comfortable, per say, but manageable.

At the door, Cisco stopped him. "Maybe we should have a safeword, in case you need help?"

Behind him, he could almost hear Hartley roll his eyes. "This isn't a bondage porno, Cisco. If he needs help, he can just ask."

Cisco turned, but Barry grabbed his face and kissed him softly. Almost immediately, Hartley's footsteps sounded as he walked away from the scene and Barry held the kiss until they disappeared into the distance. When they parted, Cisco licked his lips. "Of all the ways to get him to shut up, I think I like that one the best."

Barry couldn't help smiling, despite what he was about to walk into. "I'll be fine and he's right. If anything goes wrong, I'll ask. You'll be watching."

"I'll be watching."

He took a second longer, rested his head against Cisco's, because until that door opened, no one was watching and he needed this. "After this is over, we'll go home and you can make tacos, which you'll burn, and we'll order pizza and apologize to Joe for making a mess of his kitchen."

"Again."

"Right."

"I'll be watching." It was the only time Barry had ever felt any kind of comfort from those words, but he did. And if Cisco was as hesitant walking off as Barry was letting him go, that was okay.

He gave it a few minutes, enough time for everyone to gather in the cortex. Caitlin, Ronnie, Dr. Stein, Joe, Hartley, and Cisco – all crammed around the same small monitor to hear whatever Thawne had to say.

As much as Barry thought he should be mad at Hartley for not divulging that their mutual enemy was rebuilding the Particle Accelerator, still in the same building as them, he wasn't. In part, because Hartley was right, if Barry had known Thawne was that close, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from trying to confront him and he would have lost. That extra time had meant everything in terms of Barry getting himself together enough to not only face the Reverse-Flash, but to ask for help doing it.

Also, though, if Hartley had given Thawne away and he'd had to move his base of operations, they never would have known where to find Eddie. Not to mention, the look of Hartley's face when Iris full body hugged him for helping them get Eddie back had proven that the gratitude of an over enthusiastic Iris was punishment enough. For his own petty vengeance, Barry hadn't bothered to inform Hartley that the hug had only been the beginning of Iris's gratitude.

Barry pressed the button to open the door. No more putting it off. He was going to find out how to turn the accelerator off and he was going to refuse to help Thawne and then he was going home.

Thawne was pacing his cell, but stopped the moment the door opened and the smile that stretched over his face made Barry's skin crawl. "Hello, Barry."

"Thawne."

"Call me Eobard."

"I'd rather not."

Thawne stepped forward, leaning in with hands pressed against the glass, smile still spread too wide. "Come on, Barry, play along."

"I'm done playing along. I want to know how to turn off the accelerator, unplug whatever that thing is you have charging it, and let you rot in there."

With a push against the glass, Thawne stepped back, arms at his sides, then behind his back. "Fair enough, but if you want answers, you have to be willing to listen."

Barry held himself still against the urge to run.

Without the wheelchair, it was so much more obvious. Just the way he stood was enough, hands behind his back casually. He used to stand in the door like that, watching Barry on the bed while Barry pretended the man in yellow wasn't there with the hope that this was one of those really weird times when nothing would happen. When his captor would turn around and walk off without saying or doing anything.

"Are you willing to listen, Barry?"

 _Don't disappoint me, Barry._

Barry shuddered involuntarily and ducked his head to look at the floor. How had he ever been fooled? How had he managed to ignore it for as long as he had? Of course, as Dr. Wells, he'd never sounded that condescending. He'd always done his best to make Barry feel safe, to keep his tone neutral to the point of placating. There wasn't any of that now. Now he was just a bad guy stuck it a tiny cell where he couldn't hurt anyone.

With a deep breath, Barry looked up and nodded. "I'll listen."

"You always were good at following directions when you had the proper incentive." As much as he wanted to throw it back in Thawne's face, Barry kept his mouth shut and waited. "Very good. It's simple, really, I want to help you."

"Help me?"

"More or less. Quid pro quo. You help me, I help you. What's the one thing you want more then anything else? Think, Barry? If you could have one thing, what would it be?"

Thawne stopped and stared, actually waiting for an answer and Barry came up empty. What did he want? "To walk out of here and never have to look at you ever again?"

Thawne cocked his head. "Think, Barry."

For real? Barry grit his teeth and said the first thing that came to mind. "Okay, I want to forget you even exist."

"Close." Thawne raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. "What if it never happened?"

"It?" Because that sounded like… but it couldn't be.

"I need your help to get back to my time, but not for nothing. No, in return, I'm going to erase everything bad I ever did to you – from killing your mother to taking you when you were sixteen. I can make it all go away."

* * *

Everything.

He'd stood there listening to Thawne talk for several more minutes, because he hadn't been able to make his feet move and when he finally had left, he'd gone to the cortex, only to find everyone staring at him expectantly. Well, everyone except Dr. Stein, who had been rambling on about the implications of going back in time – how one small change could have drastic affects on the future, a chain reaction that would impact everything that followed.

What Thawne was offering to do wasn't small. If Barry went back to save his mom, Thawne would use the wormhole to travel into the future where he would recharge his connection to the Speedforce and use it to stop himself from taking Barry at sixteen. According to him, it wouldn't even be the first time he'd altered his own timeline.

Barry managed to stay for a few minutes, Caitlin watching him with clear concern, Hartley torn between eyeing Barry warily and following along with Dr. Stein. Joe was unreadable and Cisco… Cisco wouldn't take his eyes off his computer screen.

If he did this, what did that mean for them? Barry's crush on Iris as a teen had been all consuming. Before the abduction, he'd spent every waking minute following her around, pining over her and he wasn't entirely sure that would have gone away. That he wouldn't have still been so in love with Iris that he couldn't see past it.

Everything. Everything would be different.

He couldn't do this. He shouldn't do this. If Thawne wanted Barry to open a wormhole so he could get home, he'd promise anything, threaten whatever he had to in order to get Barry to do it. He'd lie if he had to. Even knowing that, Barry hadn't been able to say no outright.

He backed up a step and heard Joe say his name, but he was already off and running, tapping into the speed to get out of S.T.A.R. Labs and away from his family and friends. It was nice out, still cool, but no longer cold. He wasn't running anywhere in particular – through the streets, around the city, the world passing by him in a blur until his chest ached and he had to stop, only to find himself back in S.T.A.R. Labs, standing in the hallway where the hidden door was.

Barry leaned back against the wall, panting as slid down to a crouch, head hanging.

As a child, all he'd ever wanted was to prove his father's innocence. All of his plans for the future had been framed around that and then the Thawne took him and those dreams had faded and died. He'd realized that even if he'd been able to prove the man in yellow existed, he'd still have to catch and contain him and find evidence that he'd been the one to kill Barry's mom, or get a confession. Somewhere in there, the fight to just stay alive and sane had become the only thing he could think about. After, it was enough adjusting to the outside world and being the Flash.

He dropped his head to his knees, then back up against the wall again with a frustrated groan. It was meant to have been easy. Go in, listen to Thawne, say no, then ask him how to turn off the accelerator. Why weren't things ever as easy as they sounded?

At the end of the hall, the elevator doors slid open and foot steps walked toward him. He closed his eyes in frustration, because he was pretty sure he knew who it was and he wasn't ready to have that conversation. He wasn't ready to explain to Cisco how he could even be considering it, when he should have already said no. He wasn't ready for the disappointment, the hurt, the recrimination that Barry could, even for a moment, trust Thawne to keep his word, because the truth was, he didn't, but that didn't change the fact that he wanted to.

"There you are." Joe? That was… not who he'd expected. "You left in a hurry."

Barry nodded silently, eyes still closed as Joe sat down next to him.

"So, you want to tell me why you came down here?"

Why had he? Maybe it had been some kind of desperate bid from his subconscious to remind him that Thawne was a bad person that did really, really bad things, but all it was doing was reminding him of everything he wanted to forget.

"Joe, I don't know what to do. This should be easy, but I can't…"

"You should do it."

"What?" Barry looked over, eyes wide. He'd expected them to be trying to talk him out of it, but Joe looked entirely serious.

"Barry, of course I think you should do it. If there's even a chance that you can erase all this," Joe waved a hand at the blank wall and everything that lay behind it, "you have to take it."

He did? He did. He really did, but it wasn't that simple. It wasn't just his life he was changing. "What about everyone else? What about Iris? She spent ten years looking for whoever took me. Without her, I wouldn't have met Oliver or Felicity. God, I've helped Oliver so many times. What if I don't meet him? What if I can't help him? What if…"

"Barr, relax. Now, Oliver… I may not be the Arrow's biggest fan, but he's got a good team and Iris is gonna be just fine. She'll be who she's always been – strong willed, bull headed, and very, very opinionated." Joe wrapped an arm around Barry's shoulder, pulling him into a confining hug that Barry melted into it. "You don't worry about us. Iris and me, we'll still have each other. Besides, you were always Iris's best friend. I get the feeling we'll still see plenty of you."

"And Cisco? Because I care about him, Joe, a lot. I don't want to lose that."

Joe sighed heavily. "I know you do and I don't have any good answers for that, but Cisco's a bright kid. Whatever future he has over there, I'm sure he'll have plenty of people who care about him."

Barry breathed in, taking in the strong smell of Joe – of being loved and cared for and protected. "Could you sit here with me? Just for a while?"

"I'm not going anywhere until you do." Joe kissed the top of his head and Barry tried not to feel conflicted.

* * *

It was a good half an hour before Barry got up and left, saying he wanted to find Iris. Joe didn't argue with him, even if he didn't think Iris was the one Barry needed to talk to. Instead, he went in search of Cisco, who was just outside the entrance, staring up at the sky like he could actually see the stars past the bright lights of Central City.

Cisco glanced over when the door opened and Joe didn't miss the disappointment there. "Hey, Barry still inside?"

"No, he left to go talk to Iris."

The disappointment was replaced by hurt that smoothed over just as quickly. Cisco liked Iris, they got along, but if Joe had trouble forgetting the idea of Iris West-Allen, he could only imagine how Cisco felt about it.

"I must be like the worst boyfriend ever." Joe raised an eyebrow, but Cisco stared steadfastly at the ground. "I don't want him to do it. I mean, he should, there's… every reason he should, but I don't want him to. Thawne lies and he manipulates and he _killed_ me. I don't trust him and I don't trust that whatever comes out of this will be any better then what Barry's leaving. He could still take him. Saving Barry's mother doesn't stop him from being stuck here and excuse me if I don't trust the Reverse-Flash to live up to his end of the deal to stop himself from extracting revenge on his nemesis. And also? It feels a lot like being broken up with and it sucks!"

Joe laughed and at Cisco's glare, he laughed harder. Cisco rolled his eyes as Joe took a second to get himself together. When he finally had it under control, he leveled with Cisco. "Truth is, I don't want him to do it either. Having him with us, he brought life and light into our home for the first time in a long, long time and I'm scared of what this new future will look like without him. I didn't tell him that, though, and I'm not going to. For the same reason I know you won't tell him how much this hurts you. I love him and I want what's best for him and if there's even a chance to take all that pain away from him, I will do everything in my power to make that happen."

"I know." Cisco tipped his head up to meet Joe's eyes. "I know all the reasons he has to do this. It just… sucks. _Hard_. Like, worse then when they killed Wash in Serenity."

"That the space cowboy thing?"

"Yeah."

Joe nodded to himself. This wasn't why he'd sought Cisco out, but it was good to hear. It was good to know where the kid stood and what he intended to do. Not that Joe would have held it against him if he'd wanted to try and talk Barry out of it, but he would have had to knock some sense into him.

"Look, Cisco, I know I've been a little hard on you since you moved in…"

"You took my X-Box."

His voice had gone up to a nearly petulant whine and Joe raised his eyebrows. "I woke up to what I thought were gun shots coming from Barry's room at three in the morning. You are damn lucky the only thing I did was take your X-Box."

Cisco hung his head dejectedly, but didn't argue.

"The point is, I like you, I really do, but I have a hard time accepting that Barry is ready for any kind of relationship. I can be a little over protective…"

"You took the door off the hinges because Barry wouldn't make me sleep in Iris's room." Joe narrowed his eyes and Cisco cringed. "Sorry."

He wasn't doing this right. "I look at Barry and I don't see an adult. I see a sixteen year old boy I failed to protect – I let him go out that night, I didn't look hard enough when he went missing, I didn't believe in him and when we finally got him back, I couldn't even keep him with me, because I wasn't what he needed. So, yes, I am over protective."

"But the other night when you two were playing Barry's old video games downstairs while I made dinner? He laughed. Cisco, you didn't know him before. He had a smile and a laugh that could light up a room and I see him trying, but that was the first time since he came back that he laughed and I heard the old Barry. It was just… _him_."

Joe blinked back the tears forming in his eyes, because even several days removed, it was still such a damn relief. He'd sat in the kitchen listening to them and outright cried for several minutes before he'd had to pull himself together or risk burning dinner.

"No matter what happens, I just wanted to say thank you. You've been there for Barry when I couldn't and you're welcome in my home."

Cisco looked up at him through a fall of dark hair. "Does that mean I can have my X-Box back?"

"Don't push your luck." He put an arm around Cisco's shoulders. "It does mean I'll put the door back up. No locks, though."

Cisco leaned into the one armed hug. "You know, I'm really diggin' the whole tough love thing. My parents gave up on me pretty early on – decided I was a lost cause like the second time I blew up the garage."

"Kid, you blow up any part of my house and you will find out what tough love really is."

"Word."

* * *

It was getting late by the time Barry made it back. He wanted to go straight to Thawne and get this over with, but he couldn't do that to Cisco. He deserved to hear it from Barry that he was going through with it. So, instead, he made his way into the cortex where Hartley and Dr. Stein were hunched over one of the computers. Honestly, Barry had never seen Hartley so relaxed with anyone. Not just relaxed, but interested in what the other person was saying, borderline excited about it. Of course, he still took the time to side eye Barry when he walked in.

A quick look around confirmed Ray and Caitlin were off somewhere else, leaving Joe and Cisco sitting together on the side of the room. Barry rubbed the back of his neck and walked over to them, one hand clutching the jacket he'd taken off while coming up the elevator.

"Hey, Cisco, can we talk?" He glanced back to where Hartley was still watching out of the corner of his eye. "Somewhere else."

"Yeah." The walk down the hall was awkward and they only bothered to go far enough not to be overheard.

"Look, I don't… I can't _not_ …" Barry shuffled his feet, trying to come up with exactly what to say. Nothing felt good enough. "I'm sorry. I have to try."

Cisco sighed and rocked on his heels. "I know. Just… you know he's lying, right?"

Barry cringed, but he didn't have an answer for that.

"I don't know what he's lying about, but I know he's lying, because that's what he does and what if you do this and he doesn't go back to stop himself?"

"Then I'll still have my mom and dad back. Cisco, I don't expect you to be okay with this. I'm not entirely okay with it myself. This is what he wants. It's what he's wanted all along. I hate that I'm giving it to him, but I can't not; and the worst part is, he already knew that and it sucks, but I _have to_."

Cisco's shoulders slumped in defeat and he turned his back for a second before standing up straight and facing Barry again. He still looked entirely too miserable for Barry's liking. "Okay, yeah, I know and, you're right, I don't like it. I'm not okay with it, but I get it. You have to try."

Barry started to reach out, but stopped himself. As much as he wanted to grab onto Cisco and hold him, it felt too much like he'd be doing it for the last time. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. We still don't know how he expects you to do this and I totally reserve the right to change my mind if it turns out he's gonna get you killed."

* * *

"I've changed my mind. You can't do this."

Barry closed his eyes and sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "Cisco…"

"No, I said I reserved the right to change my mind if he was gonna get you killed. _That_ is going to get you killed."

Dr. Stein stepped forward. "Not necessarily. If Barry can run fast enough, it's quite possible this will work."

"Eobard wouldn't have suggested it if he wasn't absolutely sure Barry could do it." Cisco turned sharply to Hartley, who was leaning against a desk, staring resolutely down at the tablet in his hand. "He hasn't spent this long infiltrating Dr. Wells' life, building S.T.A.R. Labs, securing funding, recruiting scientists, letting Barry go, helping him recuperate, teaching him to go faster, just so Barry can end up splattered all over the inside of the particle accelerator. He wants to go home. Barry is his only way there. Ergo, he wouldn't have suggested it if he wasn't absolutely sure Barry could do it."

Dr. Stein nodded. "I believe Dr. Rathaway is correct."

Cisco glared openly across the lab. "You don't get a say in this. You're not the one that'll be scraping your boyfriend off the inside of the accelerator if this goes wrong."

"No one is scraping me off the inside of the accelerator." Barry pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. "Hartley's right, Thawne wouldn't risk it."

"Barry…"

"Cisco."

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, Cisco sitting with his arms petulantly folded over his chest, Barry trying to look more determined then he felt. Finally, Caitlin broke the tension by grabbing Ronnie's arm and saying, "Okay, well, there's a, um, thing I wanted to show you. Joe, why don't you come with us?"

Joe took a second to stare at Cisco accusingly, then followed after them, leaving Dr. Stein at the computer simulation and Hartley still leaning against the desk, his tablet on the table next to him as he'd dropped all pretense of not listening. From the hall, Barry heard Ronnie ask, "Did he say boyfriend?"

Right, because they hadn't had time to fill him in on that with everything else going on and Barry was intensely glad he wasn't going to have to. He had enough to worry about right now.

Clearing his throat, Barry turned to face the two remaining scientists. "Hey, could you guys give us a few minutes."

"Don't mind me." Hartley crossed his ankles and clasped his hands, getting comfortable.

"I'm sorry, were you…?" Dr. Stein turned and stopped mid-sentence, quickly assessing the situation. "Ah, I believe I'm feeling a bit peckish. Dr. Rathaway, would you show me to the kitchen?"

Hartley rolled his eyes and picked up the tablet again. "Fine."

As soon as they were gone, Barry rounded on Cisco. "Look, I know you don't want me to do this…"

"No, that's not it. Barry, man, I want you to save your mom. I want you to erase… all of it, I do. You know and maybe it sucks that we might never meet or be together, but if it meant you were happy? I could do that. If I knew this was going to work, then I'd be leading the bandwagon, man. Except I don't know that this'll work and I don't trust him. This plan? It could get you killed and I am _not_ okay with that."

"It's going to work."

"How do you know that?"

"Thawne wouldn't let me if he wasn't absolutely sure…"

"I don't care what the _Reverse-Flash_ thinks, Barry. How do _you_ know this is going to work?"

"Because I have you. And Caitlin and Ronnie and Dr. Stein and even Hartley to make sure it does."

Cisco slumped in the chair. "I still don't like it."

"What if I said you get to build a time machine?"

"…go on."

* * *

"You're an idiot."

Barry had gone to get Ronnie and Cisco was making his way to the storage room Barry had said the parts were in. He was so busy being torn between silently fuming and wondering what the time machine was going to look like that he hadn't seen Hartley standing in the hall until the other man spoke.

"What?"

Hartley smirked. "I said, you're an idiot."

"What's your problem?"

"You, actually." He paused just long enough for Cisco to really consider punching him in his smug face. "I mean, I've never been boyfriend material, but next to you, I'm a catch."

Before Cisco could retaliate, Hartley cut him off. "I've spent more then a year with one goal – wreck Eobard's plan. Whatever it was, I didn't want him to have it. If anyone should be trying to talk Barry out this, it should be me, but I'm not. Do you want to know why?"

"Not really." Okay, maybe a little, but to hell if he was going to give Hartley the satisfaction.

"Because I've seen Barry's medical records."

"I helped write his medical records."

"Not the ones I downloaded from S.T.A.R. Labs, Cisco – Eobard's. His personal medical records detailing the mental and physical condition of one Barry Allen." Cisco's mind blanked at the thought that Thawne had kept any kind of record of what he'd done. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. "I didn't have access to all of his files, but he didn't seem to care how much I knew about Barry."

"I don't…" Cisco floundered, still trying to process the idea that there was something out there like that.

"It's very clinical, disturbingly so. I had trouble stomaching portions of it. There are things that happened in that room that Barry will never tell you. Things you don't want to know. Things _I_ didn't want to know. The physical abuse that left scars, that's the easy part. The mental and emotional games, that's the real torture. It was bad enough that toward the end, Barry started to slip. He went into his own head to escape, going catatonic for days, then weeks at a time. Moving only as much as it took to go the bathroom or eat if Eobard physically put the food in his mouth. Eventually, he had a particularly bad episode that affected the timeline. It took Eobard days to drag Barry out of that one.

"He doesn't think Barry realizes it even happened, that he was having a psychotic break, but I doubt that. Barry functions remarkably well. Personally, I'm going with self-defense mechanism and I think it may have been going on for far longer then Eobard realizes. He has a tendency to get caught up in his work. It would have been very easy for short periods of catatonia to slip by unnoticed."

Hartley paused long enough for Cisco to pull his thoughts together. "What… why are you telling me this?"

"Hm? Sorry, I'm getting off track. The point is, that for ten years Barry wasn't allowed to make a decision for himself. When he ate, if he slept, what he read – all up to Eobard. He wasn't even allowed to simply give up and he _did_ try to give up. Four time. Between the two of us, I'm impressed with his resourcefulness. I mean, I've been in that room. He did not have a lot to work with."

Cisco swallowed past a lump that had formed in his throat. Before the lightning charged power had finished healing the majority of the damage, there had been scars that could have been suicide attempts. With all of the other damage, it had been hard to be sure and they'd never been comfortable asking Barry. Having Hartley confirm it left a bad taste in Cisco's mouth.

"Barry does a good job of pretending, Cisco, but every time he makes a decision, even something as simple as what donut to eat, he looks for approval – not from Joe or Caitlin or Iris, but from you. I've been watching and he'll fight them, he'll argue with them, but he doesn't argue with you, not really. If you say it's okay, it's okay; if you say he can do it, he tries; if you think it's a bad idea, he reconsiders; and if you ask me, he's transferred his dependency on his captor to a dependency on you.

"I'm going to do something I don't normally do and give you a piece of advice. Let Barry do this. If you insist, if you keep pushing and pouting like a _child_ , he will back down and walk away and he will regret that and, eventually, you will regret it, too. I'm telling you, as someone who spent months looking over those medical records, support him like the nauseatingly sentimental boyfriend you are."

That was… actually, that was really good advice. "Huh, Hartley Rathaway, unlikely voice of reason."

Hartley stared. "What did you say?"

"Oh, no, it's a show Barry watches on E, I just…"

"I know what it is." Hartley pointed a finger at him. "I _understood_ that reference. Never do that again."

He stormed off, brushing past Barry who was coming around the corner with Ronnie at his heels. "Hey, Hartley, we're…"

Hartley waved him off, continuing his momentum down the hall and Barry looked back at Cisco, confused. "What was that?"

"Nothing." Cisco gave Ronnie an apologetic smile. "Hey, could you give us a minute?"

"Sure."

As soon as Ronnie had disappeared into the storage room, Cisco rubbed his hands together nervously. "Um, look, I'm… sorry about earlier. I've been acting like a dick. I don't like you risking your life and I hate the idea that if this does work, we might never even meet, let alone… but if you want to do this, I want you to do it."

Barry eyes searched over his face carefully, before saying, "I do. Want it, I mean."

"Okay." Cisco dropped his hands, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "Then we do this. Plus, time machine, right? That's cool."

"Yeah." He started to turn, but Barry touched his arm to stop him. "I don't like the idea of never having… well, us, either. I want _us_ , but I want us in a world where we can just be normal, or, as normal as a lightning charged speedster and his super genius boyfriend can be. I can't see a world where we don't at least meet."

Cisco couldn't stop the smile from spreading. "Yeah?"

Barry nodded, his own smile weaker, but honest. "Definitely. Plus, you remembered the last time I reset the time line, right?"

"Oh, I'm there. Man, if I remember and you don't, I can totally use everything I know to mack on you."

Barry raised an eyebrow, amused. "I've seen your attempts to mack on someone. I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

Cisco's smile dropped a little. "You're probably right."

Barry held his hand out to the lab. "Time machine? Once we get started, I'll run and grab us some pizza."

"That, Barry Allen, is why I leave the flirting to you."

* * *

He might remember.

Cisco paced the narrow room, lost in thought. It hadn't occurred to him until Barry had said it. Then again, he might not. The last time that happened, he'd died a painful, traumatic death and been brought back to life, so that could have had something to do with it. Although, actually, did it even count as being brought back to life if he never died in the first place? Did the other him die and he was a completely different him or was he the same him?

"Something on your mind, Cisco?"

He stopped, startled by the interruption. "Hm? No." Actually… "Yes. You told Barry you'd go back and stop yourself from taking him?"

"I will."

"If you don't…" Cisco took a few more steps, beating his fist rhythmically against his open palm, before continuing. "If you don't, I'll make you regret it."

Thawne looked at him with skepticism. "Well, I think we both know that's not true. No offence, Cisco, but you're simply not capable of the kind of single minded ruthlessness it would take to make me regret anything, but even if you were, you won't remember this. None of you will."

"Not even Barry?"

"He'll remember what he changed, his mother's murder, his father's incarceration, up until I took him at sixteen. After that," Thawne made a swiping motion with his hand, "clean slate. You, however, will remember nothing."

"You're wrong. I remember the last time Barry went back and I'll remember this and if you…"

"What did you say?"

Cisco had kind of just assumed Hartley would have given that away, but Thawne was clearly taken aback. "What, Hartley didn't tell you? I never forgot and I won't forget this and I will make you regret it if you don't stop yourself."

For a moment, Thawne's expression went blank, then slowly spread into a smile. "Oh, Cisco, I wasn't sure until just now, but if you're able to retain traces of another timeline, if you're able to see through the vibrations of the universe, that means… the night the particle accelerator exploded, you were affected, too."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't be afraid Cisco, a great and honorable destiny awaits you now. I only hope that as your living your great adventure that you remember who gave you that life and that it was given out of love."

Cisco bristled, "Don't say…"

"However, since it seems you may very well remember this, I'll give you a parting gift." Thawne clutched the drawings in one hand and held out the other, palm up. The holographic newspaper article materialized over his hand and Cisco took a step back, because how the hell had he gotten that in there?

"I've been planning this for months, Cisco. I altered the scanners so that if I ended up here, I'd be able to retain my link to Gideon and the future. If I wanted to get out, I would have done it already. Go on, take a look."

Cisco hesitated. On the one hand, if Thawne really had altered the scanners to get that by them, who knew what else he'd brought in there with him. On the other, Cisco's curiosity had always gotten the better of him. He stepped forward cautiously, half expecting the door separating them to open at any moment.

"I believe I said the future can be changed?"

It took him a second to see it. The headline was the same, the picture of the Flash hadn't changed. He scanned the text, but it didn't look any different, except… Iris West. _Just_ Iris West.

"Congratulations, Cisco, Barry no longer marries Iris." The palm closed, taking the image with it, but the words were burned into his eyes. It was all he could see, even as Eobard held up the drawings. "Cement the tiles with a cobalt resin, that'll prevent degradation in conditions of extreme heat."

He didn't say anything in return as he walked out.

* * *

The particle accelerator had affected him, Barry didn't marry Iris, and Cisco wasn't thinking about it. Not even a little. Not while he built the time machine, not when Iris and Eddie came in together with breakfast after they'd spent most of the night toiling over the parts and Thawne's schematics, certainly not while they were at Caitlin and Ronnie's wedding and Iris kept glancing over at Eddie, not even when Barry slipped his hand into Cisco's while Caitlin was saying her vows. There was too much to do. He didn't have time to think about it.

Okay, maybe he thought about it, like a lot, but he didn't say anything, because the more he thought about it, the more he realized it wasn't just that he liked Barry or their relationship or their friendship. It was that he loved him. Cisco threw that word out a lot. Hartley was right in saying he'd made a family for himself there and he loved everyone in his own way, but with Barry, it had become something different. It was deeper then that, which meant wanting what was best for Barry and changing the past, their possible future, that was what was best for Barry.

So he didn't say anything. He smiled, built the time machine, got caught by Ronnie kissing Barry in the lab – totally karma coming back to bite Ronnie in the ass for all the times Cisco had walked in on him and Caitlin. It wasn't perfect, but when this was over and the timeline was reset, Cisco was going to find a way to win Barry back. It would be harder, but worth it. Barry was worth it.

Except… and Cisco wasn't sure exactly what happened at first. One minute Thawne was ready to leave, the next Barry came flying out of the worm hole in a flash of light and then everything was in a haze of white, his ear ringing. He was still trying to get his body to respond to the command to move and look around when the gun shot went off.

It startled him enough to clear his head and he looked around to find Eddie shot and Thawne backing off from a beaten Barry and… Barry hadn't done it. Everything was still the same. He could feel it.

Why hadn't Barry changed the past? As much as he wanted to run to Barry's side and ask what the hell had happened, he stood, transfixed, as Thawne changed and dissipated, making one final plea to Cisco for help that he sure as hell wasn't offering. As soon as Thawne was gone, though, Cisco practically dove forward.

He dropped down to where Barry had let himself slump and held hands over Barry's suit, trying to decide where it was safe to touch. Unable to come up with anything, he let them hover over Barry's chest. "You okay?"

Barry nodded, still staring at the spot Thawne had been kneeling.

"Dude, what happened?"

Barry shook his head, mouth open in a pant. "Eddie was Thawne's ancestor."

If Barry hadn't been in shock, Cisco would have hit him upside the head. "No, not that, you didn't change it. Why didn't you change it?"

Barry finally looked over to Cisco and reached a shaking hand up to touch his face, but before he could say anything a breeze kicked up into an actual wind and they both looked over to see it gathering into a…

"Guys, that's not good." Cisco helped Barry to his feet as the wormhole ate its way through the accelerator and by the time they got outside, it was huge, swallowing the sky and sucking everything in. A Blackhole. An honest to god Blackhole sucking up Central City. "So that's what we didn't want to happen.

Barry looked at him and Cisco barely heard what the others were saying, because he already knew what Barry was going to do, even before he looked at Dr. Stein and said, "I have to do it."

In a flash, Barry was standing in front of Cisco, hands on his face, holding their foreheads together. "I love you."

Cisco tried not laugh. It wasn't the first time Barry had said it, but it was the first time since they'd started dating, the first time it was meant as something more than just words and it made him ache with the realization that it might as well be goodbye. "Your timing sucks, dude."

"Yeah."

Cisco grabbed Barry's arms just above the wrists and squeezed. "I love you, too."

Barry closed his eyes and smiled. There a brief kiss, barely a peck, then another, more urgent before Barry stepped back, pulling his cowl over his face, lightning dancing in eyes.

As Cisco watched the red streak that was his boyfriend run up the side of a building and into a Blackhole, a strange thought popped into his head. If they survived this, he was going to ask Joe to teach him how to cook without setting the kitchen on fire.

If they survived this.

 **The End... for now**

* * *

 **End Note:** And yes, I will be carrying this into Season 2. As soon as I've watched Season 2. So, you know, it'll be a while.


End file.
